


My Co-Worker May Be A Robot Space Alien, But He's Definitely A Superhero

by SkullSummonerMina



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien/Human Relationships, Aliens, Cat Cafe, Comedy, Drama, Exes, Learning to Human, M/M, Self-Destructive Behavior, Superheroes, fictional countries, office workers with dark pasts falling for cute robot ants from space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26516557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkullSummonerMina/pseuds/SkullSummonerMina
Summary: David is an alcoholic office worker with a past full of regrets. Jules is a space alien and maybe a robot. Together they fight crime.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

0104 4:08 Weekly_Mu  
A bright light of unknown origin was spotted last night during rush hour near the Vitus River. Several videos were taken but no official explanation has been given by The City. Full story and video at site.

0104 7:47 itisfrog  
Vitus Docks on fire. Don't go there.

0104 8:02 Weekly_Mu  
City released an official statement regarding the strange light seen at 6:12 on Jan 28th that while its origins are currently unknown, it is not an attack from a foreign power. There is nothing to be concerned about. Full story at site.

Mu_Underground Replying to Weekly_Mu 8:07  
Any connection to shut down of Vitus Dock area is 'conjecture'? The river has been having issues with ice due to the recent cold front but several disturbing photos of fucked up ice weirdness have been posted in this very reply chain. 

Mu_Underground Replying to Weekly_Mu 8:08  
This is just more proof of your 'journalists' being under the thumb of city hall. And no I'm not downloading your fucking app.

0104 9:02 Vitus_Ferry  
#CurrentConditions as of 10:00am All sailings cancelled for Jan 4th. Please stay posted for when service will resume. Check conditions at site. No refunds.

0104 10:32 Vitus_Ferry  
#CurrentConditions The bay is not on fire. It's just melting. For refunds please contact City Hall.

0104 23:00 Weekly_Mu  
Incident at Vitus Docks strands passengers. Tempers flare over refund policy. Full story and video at site.

Another day another explosion, and maybe David should have felt something about that other than annoyance, been reminded of things, started one of those spirals that ended with having to replace the bottle in his desk drawer, but luckily enough, today's explosion came with zero casualties and shitton of paperwork to fill out.

David held his terrible office machine coffee in one hand, his phone in another, as he read last page of the latest print job. If they were going to route printing this poorly then he was going to read whatever popped out.

SIGN: Look, I know you don't like this but you were the first person on the scene and we have to get some sort of statement from you.  
FROG: (gesturing that is not officially recognized under any nation's sign language)  
SIGN: When you arrived at the Vitus Docks what did you see?  
FROG: (inaudible)  
SIGN: You know you aren't supposed to use your official account for messages that might cause panic. You've been warned about this before.  
FROG: (inaudible)  
SIGN: You could at least take off the helmet for this so we could hear you.  
FROG: (much more vehement gestures) (possible muffled swearing)  
SIGN: (slams papers on table with great force) Just fill out the form.  
END OF TRANSCRIPT

The problem with basing your hiring process on 'somehow obtained superpowers' was that many of those under the employ of the Department of Justice Headquarters were eclectic, to use the polite term. David had seen Frog's face only once. She had then punched him.

Lilli J. Lee, although never to be called that to her face, had at some point gained the ability to produce repellent force fields. Her 'work uniform' consisted of a highly modified frog-based mascot costume that covered riot gear, all originally purchase online, now replaced semi-yearly on the city's dime. She was a strange, violent woman who got away with a lot due to decades of seniority, but she was fast, durable, and the only one who actually volunteered to patrol the city when the temperature went sub-zero. Which was about November to April if they were lucky.

Gerald Sign, on the other hand, was new. New enough he still tried to get the Frog to do things she didn't want to. He'd either quit in the next few months or get sent to a department where he didn't interact with the talent. David just hoped it wasn't book-keeping. They had enough trouble getting the budget off the ground with employees who wanted to be there.

The printer chattered its ancient beeping grind as more jobs came in. David waited, leaning against the peeling faux wood laminate counter, until it shuddered to a halt, then ripped the perforated sides to start sorting. 

01050101 Transcript of Interview with Alleged Intergalactic Alien

Hmm.

David's phone beeped.

He read the text. 

Of course, departments and job descriptions meant nothing if the King had a pet project he wanted you for.

*

He, and as far as he had been able to ascertain, that was what this body would be recognised as, had already absorbed the basics of the English language (among several others) in preparation for this mission. Still, important aspects of communication had been missed.

Such as how to write a name on a sheet of paper.

Dragging graphite on paper was an ancient method of durable communication. He could understand the appeal, but this thin shape seemed impossible to manipulate. He had too many digits now, yet too few limbs.

When the man with bright red hair and glass lenses explained that he did not need to use every finger in manipulation, it helped. When the man demonstrated, it helped more. The physical positioning of his fingers upon the stylus helped the most.

"Sorry, but the bastards at top really wants you do fill it out yourself." The man shifted his shoulders up and down while he moved away. "Fingerprints are next."

Now that he could write legibly it was simply a matter of choosing the correct words for his new designation. He had already discarded the notion of translating his birth designation into a combination of letters English-readers would understand. Few human languages seemed to make the correct sounds, nor even have ways to transmit them. None attempted the layers of other information he would normally be expected to present for identification.

So he would simply chose a name that already existed. 

The corner of the red-headed man's mouth moved downwards. This was a sign of disapproval. "Don't use that one."

"Why?" There was a useful word, sadly unavailable for use as a name. He suspected he would use it often. "It is a common name."

The man hummed a low short tone, but he could not discern any meaning from the noise. "Just try something else. That's not a good one."

Albert the Second had been, according to pre-landing research, the first named creature to have entered space from the Earth. What else could be more appropriate for the first visitor from space?

Perhaps the fact Albert had died on re-entry was inauspicious? Or that he had been a rhesus macaque?

He could choose the name of a human. There was Yuri Alekseyevich Gagarin, the first human in space. He had also survived this important event.

The man hummed again. "Not bad, but you can't just take someone's whole name. At least if they're famous." He reached over and erased much of what had been written. "That'll work as a fake last name, now just add a first name."

He thought. He went over options. 

These sort of decisions were not supposed to have been made by him. This was all supposed to be handled by—

But they were missing. Everyone was. He was alone.

He finally said: "Please help me."

The red-haired man took a large intake of breath before slumping his shoulders. "Right. Okay. I'm sorry. This is probably pretty shitty for you, isn't it?" 

He supposed that assessment was correct, although the euphemism seemed unnecessary. 

The man held out his right hand. "My name is David Morel. I'm pretty sure my parents put less thought into it than you're having to." 

When he did not respond, David looked at him for a moment longer, then reached to grab the hand that didn't hold a pencil. 

The skin of David's hand had a soft yet firm texture. Palmar creases and fingerprints added grip. If he focused he could almost sense the movement of blood as it pumped through the circulatory system, but nothing more. The digits of the hands did not move. They simply held each other.

Then David let go. "So, you seem to want something space-related? I'd suggest you don't go with Buzz."

"It has a good sound."

David hummed again. Again, the noise seemed to not be meant as actual communication. An item was taken from the coat pocket. 

Oh! A tactical information device! It lit up with a touch, and with brisk movements pictures and words flashed.

Why could thy not have given him one of those instead of this piece of rock?

"If you like Gagarin, let's look him up. Maybe you can find something related—" A moving grainy video opened, the low voice of a man rumbling through distortion coming from hidden speakers. "Shit, finger slipped."

'Gagarin in space: "Jules Bergman announces and explains the event", ABC News Special, April 12, 1961'

*

David was almost at the end of a very long, very weird day. He just needed to drop Mr. Space Invader off at the residential wing and he could sleep. Maybe drink and then sleep. "This is your key, both to this room and to the building. Don't lose it. We have to re-do the whole system if you lose it."

Everyone lost it. A man from the Orion Belt (or something like that) would surely be no different.

The newly named Jules Gagarin held the flat white card with two fingers, then raised it to his ear as if listening to it. 

Well, maybe he was.

"I will be careful." The tone wandered around while managing to still stay flat, like one of those text to speech programs kids used for memes nowadays. 

The residential wing was, like most large buildings in Mu, a hollow concrete block. Rooms lined the outside and the middle made a courtyard. The ceiling had a thick glass skylight that, when there was sunlight, dimly illuminated the vast hole. As it was winter the lighting came from the tiny fluorescents. Two parallel walls were neatly studded with windows. The other had their hallways exposed, iron railings between them and the pit.

Jules' new apartment was one of the ones that only faced outside. Which meant the poor bastard was going to get even less scenery. At least the inward facing residents could look down on the ugly tiles of the courtyard. Or spy on their neighbours.

David had an inward facing apartment several floors down. He kept his curtains closed.

"Touch the key to the white box by the door." David gestured with his chin, then his hand when Jules only stared.

A tap, a beep, and the door clicked open.

The on-site employee rooms were pretty standard. Small enough to encourage you to find something better in the city but not so small it felt rude. A little window that would never give any light with binds that would never keep in any warmth. A bed. Some flat board furniture. Ancient ropey orange carpet that clumped under the edges of any furniture. Beige walls that didn't work that well with orange carpet. Someone had attempted a wallpaper boarder in this room. Then someone had attempted to remove it.

"This will be your room. Nothing too fancy. Bed here, closet there." Damn, David would have to find more clothes tomorrow. Or maybe that would be someone else's job once word of their new guest got out. He was the forms guy, not the concierge. "Bathroom is through that door."

David knew, he did, that it was probably his responsibility here to make sure the strange alien knew how to use a toilet, but he hesitated, and was thankfully saved by Jules asking a question.

"I am to be alone?" 

Thank fuck. The guy had been interviewed for hours, surely he'd had to use one already? Yeah, sure. New topic.

"Lucky you. We have enough empties to hand them out to anyone that comes by. Be happy you didn't show up in the summer, the overflow dorms are terrible." Overflow was a long corridor of bunks sunk into the walls. More like people closets than rooms. Capacity for forty people and only one washroom. Which was two floors down. David heard the shower line up could be over an hour long.

"Dorms? Oh, you mean dormitories. Those are a type of communal housing." It was possible that Jules's face brightened but it was hard to tell. "I would like to stay there with the other guests."

"There are no other guests," David answered. "No one visits Mu in the winter." 

Except space aliens, apparently. 

Jules didn't so much frown, but his face went back to that blankness he'd had all day. "So I am to be alone here?"

"You have neighbours." Again, maybe David saw Jules perk. Not in any way he could describe like say: 'oh he smiled', or 'his eyebrows went up'. Just a sense of alertness he couldn't place. Frustrating, really. "I live several floors down. The three other rooms on this floor belong to the Pink Crew. They don't live here full time as Ms. Kirke owns a condo in the city, but if they're here, you'll know. Many employees use a similar arrangement."

David inched backwards to the door. He was almost free. Almost. 

"It is so quiet here."

Err, crap. David side stepped towards the junky television. God, the thing was so old it had retractable antennae. Some knob fiddling was required, all while Jules waited behind him. 

Click click, there it was. 

On the screen a mermaid sung about her hording habit. A modern classic. 

"That is a strange creature," Jules said. The guy's attention had turned to the screen at least.

Okay, one last attempt to be a good person then David was out for the night. "If you need anything just go back the way we came up and there'll be that security guard at check in you can ask, okay?"

Jules glanced away from the television. "You stated you lived several floors down. Is that farther than the guard?"

"Yeah, a bit." His hand was on the door, he was almost free. 

"Then the nearest person is four minutes away," Jules replied.

"Don't worry," he said, before catching himself. It was a stupid platitude, and the odds David would even see the guy much after this were low. No point giving false expectation. "You'll be fine on your own." 

He left it at that. 

*

David was very wrong. He saw the guy a lot. Constantly. Every day. It was getting weird.

"I apologise, but I do not understand what this phrase means in this context," Jules would ask after standing outside David's office until David gave up, stopped his work, and let Jules in.

It was a form. Ow, subjecting a space alien to legalese was evil.

Jules had circled the offending words in pencil, sort of.

David had work, really he did, but Jules looked at him with alarmingly big eyes and an expression that was almost a frown. 

Jules was kinda shit at expressions so far. It reminded David of a robot he'd seen on the news. Not one of the blowing things up types, but one in a science center in Japan, where they were trying really hard to figure out how to replicate all those annoying muscles in the human face but just not there yet.

It freaked people out, the news had said. Called the effect the 'uncanny valley.'

It was kinda cute.

"Okay," David said with a long suffering sigh of someone who knew they would regret kindness when they were several hours into overtime. "But you owe me a coffee for this."

*

0109 10:04 Vitus_Ferry  
The coffee hut will be replaced. Eventually. For complaints please contact City Hall.

Mu_Underground Replying to Vitus_Ferry 10:11  
Can you confirm that an extra-terrestrial space craft destroyed the coffee hut?

0109 12:04 Vitus_Ferry  
For information on the coffee hut's untimely demise, please contact City Hall.

MariaK420 Replying to Vitus_Ferry 14:11  
Memorial for Coffee Hut when.

*

Jules brought him coffee. He brought a lot of coffee.

"I have been assigned work," he said one day, while delivering a macchiato something. "In exchange for aiding in the city's defence I am to be granted a monetary stipend and given extensive training."

"That's great?" said David, who really should have been working but, free coffee. Wait, how had Jules been paying for coffee before—?

"Would it be possible to tell me how I could acquire a cell phone?"

"Yeah, sure, that'll be necessary for work. I can—" David was cut off by his own phone beeping and booping.

Komarov: Who's your new cute friend?

Maria Komarov was reception. Technically David was her supervisor, but really she ran the place, he'd just been there longer. Every once in a while she tried to gossip with him. Be friendly. David usually just ignored it. It was weird. Talking to people was weird. But he did need to stay on her good side.

David: He's a space alien

Komarov: Okay, is he single?

David glanced up at the space alien who was probably a robot inside a human suit, currently trying to hold a pen and fill out a phone acquisition form. The pen wobbled a little. Jules made a pained noise.

David: Pretty sure

*

The phone showed up quick, but for some reason it showed up at David's office. So Jules came by again, with coffee, and a muffin. "The nice woman at the entry desk asked if I was courting you, what does that mean?"

"Uh." David's hands paused with the scissors partially stabbing the amazon box. "What?"

"She seemed to believe this because I bring you food." His eyes glanced to the hole David had made in the package. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you know, trying to date someone." 

"I have heard of the term. It is romance?" He asked this like someone ordering breakfast in a foreign language and worried they'd get laughed at.

"I suppose?" David stabbed the package, hopefully not puncturing the phone. The sooner he got this set up the sooner Jules could google this shit. "You know, getting married, stuff like that."

"No."

David looked up. "No?"

"I know of it," Jules amended. "From research."

"What, space aliens don't get married?"

"No."

"Well then Maria's going to be disappointed." And he thought no more of it other than how it rather confirmed his suspicions of robots until he had the dang phone out of its insanely tight plastic packaging.

"Thank you," said Jules, taking the phone, instruction manual, and charger. He studied it a moment then continued. "Is it important for humans to be married? I had thought perhaps that aspect of your fiction was as exaggerated as the rest appeared to be."

The man really had a talent for packing questions into questions. "I don't follow."

"I have found it difficult to discern what elements are fanciful and which are reality when consuming your fiction," continued Jules.

David shoved the destroyed box into the garbage bin. Plop. "How so?"

Jules laid the words out like they were dominos in a row. "Women who are partially fish who are able to trade oral communication for the ability to integrate with above-ocean society but only if they are able to gain romantic affection within a time limit."

"Oh. Yeah that's made up." David shrugged. "Well, then again, you never know. Mu is an odd place. We get people with new wacky superpowers every week. Fish people could happen someday."

Jules's phone lit up with the power-on screen flashing. "Yes, this is a very strange nation when compared to others on the planet."

"Not that it's the only place people are born with strange powers, it's just, you know," David said, watching as Jules began to tap and slide his way through screens. Okay, he was way better at phones than pens.

"Your country has an immigration system preferential to those with extraordinary abilities." Tap tap.

"Yeah, that."

"Is this why I have been so readily accepted?" Jules turned the phone around in his hands. "It had been assumed that if we were discovered we would be incarcerated. However everyone has been quite kind. Even your monarch has taken a personal interest in my well being."

Well that was likely why everyone had been so nice. The King probably thought of Jules has his shiny new toy. A real space alien? Of course he'd be all over that. If it wouldn’t cause an international incident the King would probably tell every world leader out there. 'Hey look at me, I'm friends with Earth's first known space alien. Oh wait please do not try to invade us to capture him. Oh shit. Oh no.'

Although, really, it was weird this guy was being let loose with almost no supervision. 

Maybe he had an ankle bracelet.

Jules turned the phone so that David could see the screen. "Is this the 'google' you wanted me to use?"

Then again, the King had his own ways of knowing what people were up to. 

"Yeah, that's the one."

*

Jules had only existed on his origin planet for as long as it took for his mind to mature enough to be programmed with the necessary information. However, this data had included the ways things ought to be.

Earth did not seem to run by these rules. 

He asked David many questions.

He asked many people questions.

When the Pinks—Bonnie Kirke, her twin brother Rickie Kirke, and their companion Falcon X—had made their presence in the residential building known, Jules had obtained some answers, but also many deflections. He had also obtained some answers from The Frog, mostly via text messaging app she had instructed him to install on his phone.

But all of them, at some point, had made reason to leave, or would not answer everything or—

David was the one that most consistently answered, even when the questions seemed to agitate him, and so Jules returned repeatedly to him.

In fact, in contrast to all others, Davie seemed to become less agitated the longer Jules came to him.

And everything Jules learned told him that what he knew inside himself was incorrect and useless. Even the adaptations of his own body—

But none of that should have mattered, because of one very important wrongness.

He was not supposed to understand any of this, for he was not supposed to be alone. 

The group, the others, they should have been able to—

And generally it was here his thought processes would break down. Perhaps eventually he would come up with something to go ask David, who would answer as long as he was at his office, or in the lobby, or the halls. Unfortunately it had been made clear to Jules through interactions with others that humans needed long periods of sleep during the night.

Sometimes Jules would text.

Sometimes David would respond.

Some nights were very long.

Human social groups were exceedingly complex, and the strongest bonds appeared to require one to be born into them.

This made sense to Jules, on a certain level, but it left him outside a closed circle.

Except, he began to notice certain stories repeated on the television. Analysis and research led him towards a different, strange option.

*

"I have been researching kissing," Jules announced one morning, because of course he did.

Several possible replies skittered and crashed inside David's mind before he managed: "Oh, really."

Jules had on the oversized sweater he'd ordered from some shady online marketplace (with help from The Frog). It half slipped off one shoulder, and David, had the insane urge to put it back right. He resisted. "It seems to be a complicated subject."

Well, David could multitask paperwork and alien educational talks about touchy subjects. Better yet, he could deflect. "You haven't just been reading Wikipedia articles on your phone, have you?"

Jules clutched his phone, which he had gotten a decorative iridescent case for some time in the last week (David also suspected The Frog) tight to his chest. "I like my phone."

He had a clavicle exposed. 

"The problem isn't your phone, it's the reliance on that site—" David looked back down at his paperwork. 

"I like that website." Jules was pouting. When had he learned how to pout? Who had dared to teach him that?

Right, fund request this box. Budget copy this box. Angry email print-out this box. "If you want to learn about human culture you're going to need more depth on the subject than wiki diving can get you."

"I was going to ask you."

Repeated fund request—

Okay, maybe he couldn't deflect. "You what."

Jules started tapping away at his phone. "Kissing closely resembles an important form of communication used by my species in a standard manner, yet the terms of use and meaning seem to vary greatly depending on the Earth culture and time in history. On my planet the act is considered part of our genetic instincts, but I wonder if the range of meaning on Earth is because humans are limited in their sense of smell."

David had not understood half of that. "Our what now?"

Jules's tapping slowed. "Human communication appears to be almost entirely verbal and visual. Any chemical component seems to be limited and wholly uncontrolled."

Oh. Okay. At least David could get them off kissing. "Well, there's perfume."

Jules froze. Even the fidgeting finger stopped tapping and swiping. "There is what?'

"Perfume, smelly shit you spray on yourself. It's a billion dollar industry?" There, good, he was being informative and distracting. "Unless you mean pheromones."

"I did but," Jules trailed off. The tapping began anew.

Maybe. Hopefully, David had given Jules something to go google long enough he would forget about kissing.

No, Jules never forgot anything. "Also, the human nose is comparatively limited in picking up scent vibrations so I wondered if the act of kissing was necessary to involve taste."

"Yes, we are very inadequate." Wait. "Scent isn't a vibration."

"Scent is a vibration."

"No."

For a moment silence. Then: "This explains much."

"Jules," David said after another short silence. "Thank you for explaining how much humans suck once again, but I do have work to do today."

Right, that was what was important here, work. David had work. Jules maybe had work. Had he been sent out to fight recently? If so he had forms to fill. 

"I apologise. I did not mean that. I did not mean that insultingly. Please do not be angry. You smell perfectly well." Jules said it all so fast, too fast, tumbling over the words and—  
As much as Jules would deny if called on it, he was never particularly subtle that his biology was different than a humans. David's current top theory was that he was some sort of robot.

Apparently a robot with a very important sense of smell.

Humans sucked at smell. Robots apparently sucked at not being rude. Maybe Jules was excreting some pheromone that was going 'Hey man, I'm just curious. No offence meant. Please don't hate me.'

If so then when David felt he was missing half the conversation with Jules because he really was, wasn't he?

Or maybe Jules was just an awkward fuck. David sniffed while trying to not look like he was sniffing. He smelled nothing.

Eh, if Jules gave off any vibes it was that of a big dumb puppy. Right now, possibly a puppy who had just gotten the spray bottle but didn't know why.

The Jules said: "Would you like to go to dinner tonight?"

"Are you allowed outside of the building on your own yet?"

"No," replied Jules. "However if we were to go together then I would not be leaving the complex on my own."

Touche. "That's true—"

"Good!" There went Jules's fingers, tapping a storm again. "Pink Falcon says Gyoza Hut is open twenty four hours, is almost abandoned after 10pm, and has an excellent selection. Also, it is easily accessible through the Tilestreet underground corridor, which means we will only be outside for less than two minutes. As the current temperature is -34 and there are high winds, staying outside for longer periods would be unadvised for your health."

"Mine as well," Jules added after a second.

An understatement. Jules had seemed much less inclined to the winter than David, who had grown up with it. Humans: bad at smell, much better than whatever Jules was at cold. "Yeah, okay."

Jules retreated before David could say anything else. He was gone long enough for David to finish enough work to argue he'd tried. He'd really tried.

Jules returned with a cardboard box full of winter gear, already half layered himself. David's stuff was there, snatched from the office closet. 

David probably should not have had dinner with someone who had just been asking him about first base, but at least the gyoza was ok and the conversation was much less fraught once on the topic of conversation was funny videos on Jules's phone. There were no other customers around to ask, but if anyone had David would argue he squished into Jules's side of the booth it was just to see the phone screen better. And he only tried to sniff Jules's hair once .

* 

Jules 02:42:03 AM  
Hello. Do you know if David Morel is 'single.'

Frog 02:50:32 AM  
His ex blew up downtown.

Jules 02:1:02 AM  
I do not understand. Could you elaborate?

*

This was the information Jules gathered: 

David had been born thirty four years ago on the 28th day of the first month, to Agnes and Benjamin Morel, their fourth and final child. The first had died at age two of accidental drowning. The surviving eldest and third had been put in foster care before David's birth. The younger had died of an overdose at age fifteen. The elder aged out of the system and their current whereabouts were difficult to ascertain.

David ran away at age seventeen. His disappearance was reported by his school, not his parents.

He re-appeared two years later being arrested for, but not charged with, shoplifting.

One month later he was questioned for assault. Again there were no charges.

Then nothing until he re-appeared in an investigation regarding money laundering at a popular downtown club, later discovered to be owned and used as a front by a gang.

Eleven years ago he was in a jail cell awaiting interrogation on tax evasion when there was a large explosion in the downtown core of the city.

Nine years ago David was convicted and sent to prison for twenty years. He served just over two.

This was when his employment records at Justice Headquarters began.

*

Frog 03:50:32 AM  
Google Alberto Montebello

And then she sent a picture of a displease cat.

More information came quickly.

*

Jules held the printout in his left hand, studying the gray-scaled image. The printing machines had colour options. Surely the features would be more discernible in colour. Had they printed him this way on purpose?

Jules had noted the named first. He knew what that meant. Why David hovered beside him trying to snatch the papers, a mixture of nervousness and irritation. Humans seemed to combine emotions in such interesting ways. Confusing, but interesting.

"This was your previous lover?" Jules asked in the rhetorical manner he had heard others do. He already knew. David knew he knew. But the social mores of this region required it be stated aloud to introduce the topic before Jules could ask the questions he truly wanted answered.

David yanked the printout away. "Was. You'll note the 'deceased' status. Look, I'm fine with Denny's tonight but I need to get some work done first, and if the lot at the top are going to suddenly go physical copy on the Records Department—"

"His face has severe scarring."

Those words caused David's own face—normally formed, only marred by scars on the bridge of the nose and left cheek, brown specks related to reckless sun exposure, but still on the higher scale of conventional attractiveness in as near as Jules's research could indicate--to turn away. Now his words were clipped. "Yes. Hard to miss, that."

"But you were still in a romantic relationship with him." A statement, but with a clearly encoded question.

"At least until he killed over a hundred people." David shuffled the files far too forcefully than needed. Oh, Jules's curiosity had led him into error. Now David was mad at him. "You know what, Jules? I may not be able to finish work in time for dinner after all. See you tomorrow." 

Before Jules had time to parse and counter this change in plans—mostly likely solution: apologise even if unsure of what apologizing for--David had already shut the door to his office and drawn the blinds. 

At least Jules understood better than to go after him when he did that. 

*

Two hours later Jules sat in the Denny's he had meant to visit with David, although it was the Pink Crew who surrounded him. 

"You asked him about what?" Pink Falcon, legal name Bonnie Kirke, slammed a drink comprised of fruit juice, soda, and alcohol down with a laugh that was clearly not genuine. It had been she who had suggested Jules take David to this location, and had been sitting at the back with her companions when Jules had walked in alone. Jules now suspected the suggestion had contained some sort of secondary intention, but that did not matter now. He was glad for the company. "Jules, you really are some sort of space alien."

Jules was getting much better at frowning when appropriate. "I have said such multiple times."

Little Pink, legal name: Rickie Kirke, shook his head. "You can't ask those sorts of things, man."

"But I want to know," Jules replied. "It is obvious that humans place enormous value on physical perfection, so what would make David overcome the natural instinct of revulsion—"

Pink Falcon's right covered his mouth, decorated nails pinching against his cheek. "Okay I'm going to cut you off right there before you insult more people."

Falcon X, legal name unknown, took over, using the sarcastic tones he always did when explaining things to anyone not Pink Falcon. The practice was strongly irritating, as was the way he looked at Jules over his glasses, as if seeing Jules less meant something. More irritating was the possibility it did. Falcon X's powers were not fully cataloged. "While it's possible—" This word was emphasised in a way Jules did not understand but he did note it's vigour."—That you come from a planet of supermodels, on this planet not everyone is so blessed as to be born with and retain Hollywood good looks. Yet still we manage to find dates. People can fall for personality as much as physical details."

The phrasing of 'physical details' seemed to understate the man in question's situation. Sometimes alias Vulcan, legal name Alberto Montebello: small time crook with a smattering of arrests and releases until a robbery turned murder cause him to be jailed in a high-security prison where his strange powers were first observed scientifically.

At some point in his youth his power has manifested with the bursting of an odd substance akin to, but chemically different to, molten rock. This matter seemed to be melded with his nervous system, allowing him limited control of its movement outside his own body. The flesh that had been melted as a youth had never healed. It had been noted any area exposed to mystery substance would re-burn upon use of powers.

Such abilities led to Vulcan's quick rise in the underworld, curtailed only by his death.

How David had come to be involved with the criminal Jules had not completely pieced together. It was one of the many things he wanted to ask about, but the more he learned the more it seemed he was supposed to keep his mouth shut and stew in his curiosity.

"Regardless." Pink Falcon took away her hand. "Even if David's ex had been hotter than hell—"

Little Pink snickered. Falcon X sighed.

"—You don't ask shit like that about an ex. Actually, don't ask about exes. Just don't do it. If you banged half the galaxy before landing here then David wouldn't want to hear about it, so don't ask about him either. Especially about stupid shit like his ex being an ugly fucker. The guy blew up three blocks of rush hour, that's all you need to remember about the asshole." Pink Falcon gestured for the waiter to come back. "Now hurry up and order something other than soda, you'll rot your teeth out."

*

Besides, all of this, David had begun to act strangely. He had stopped leaving the Justice Headquarters Main Complex sixteen days ago. Before that, he had left daily, multiple times daily, regardless of weather or time. Now he refused to leave for anything. His excuses, plausible at first, had become increasingly implausible.

It was not, as Jules had selfishly worried at first, an attempt to avoid himself. David had previously left the building most often on his own, and David was still amicable to accompanying Jules to places as long as they did not go outside. The common areas of the complex were fine, the nearby coffee shops were not.

He had either become agoraphobic, or something else was keeping him indoors.

*

There was an envelope in David's desk. Right side. Bottom drawer. Where he hoarded bits of this and that. Dead pens. Erasers. Paper clips. Papers he might need someday. Garbage.

An envelope that had arrived two weeks ago containing a ring. Plain, mid quality gold alloy. No markings other than an engraving on the inside: 'Davy.'

He'd shoved it under the papers, slammed the drawer, and not opened it since.

Now David stared out at the hallway, through the yellowed indoor window of his office, and craved coffee that didn't come from the Justice Headquarters' machines.

He was being stupid. Someone wanted to play a sick joke and here he was panicking about it.  
He should just get his coat and shit, and go to the fucking Starbucks across the block. Any of them.  
Or he could just sit there and debate either to use the nearby percolator or go five flights of stairs to commandeer the locker room Keurig.

Maybe he could get Jules to go fetch take-out again. There'd be more questions about his recent disinclination towards going out, but otherwise—

Sure, where was the phone?

David had a text.

Komarov: Boss incoming.

Her reception desk was down the hall and around a corner at the entrance to the floor. Three small offices and a closet away. If the Boss stopped to talk to all of the employees like he normally did David would have enough time to—

"David, are you decent in there," said King Jupiter Caelestis the 1st of Mu and Surrounding Waters knocking on the door as he opened it.

Fuck.

If you didn't know who he was—although if you lived in the city it would be impossible not to what with the huge posters currently on every bus stop for the 30th anniversary of coronation—one might think he was just another business man. Suit, flashy yet not too flashy. Lavender and grey plaid tie. Hair and short beard cut to a millimeter's precision. Shined black shoes. From the suit to the cuff-links, everything was custom made, and all cost about twenty times as much as you might think from a first glance. 

David would know, he'd help with the King of Mu's expense reports when they'd gotten tricky. 

"Usually am during working hours, Sir." The King liked his employees to act casual, to a point.

The King's bodyguard of the day lingered outside the office door. Who was in The Nautilus's armor today? Whoever it was looked pretty damn bored, leaning against the door frame. Probably the new kid. Could talk to grass or something.

The King collected people. Special people. Anyone with powers, of course, but other assets were valuable as well. Value wasn't just talent, but a good—which usually meant bad--story, social capital, or just some whatever that caught his eye.

"True. True." The King nodded for his bodyguard to wait outside.

Damn, so it was going to be one of those meetings.

"It's about my son."

Oh fuck it was going to be one of those meetings.

If not for the personal interests and mercy of his King, David knew he would have died in prison, but he wasn't so thankful as to be stupid. The King was smart enough, but his son was an idiot. An egotistical idiot who had cultivated a gang of yes men to the point he thought he was the god his ancestors had claimed to be. 

They had twenty years at the best until The King died. Less if, heaven forbid, his mental faculties started to decline and his offspring's sharks tasted weakness.

Then, well, what would be worse? In-fighting for the true power behind the country or that idiot at the helm from the start? Would enemies of Mu take the opportunity to invade outright, or would they just grab power in a less obvious way?

Basically, they were fucked.

The King knew it. But he wouldn't renounce his own blood. So it would happen anyway.

"He's been showing interest in our new friend, Mr. Gagarin. The boy seems fond of you, so warn him off, would you?" He pushed at some of the files on David's desk. "As subtly as you can manage with him, of course."

Yeah fuck, that sounded like a complete disaster. "I'll try."

"Good, good." The King leaned against David's desk, one hand now on a specific file. "He seems to like you best. He'll listen to you."

Ok, what the Hell did that mean? 

Yes, Jules was a bit clingy, but David had assumed Jules was doing that with everyone. Jules seemed popular. He was always texting someone or other. Going out with someone. 

The King smiled.

Fine, he could text Jules under the pretense of grabbing them take-out, which he wanted anyway, and then try to explain the concept of autocrats and hereditary dictatorships while trying to make it subtle enough to not sound like treason if anyone overheard but blunt enough Jules knew what he was talking about. 

Fun. 

Well who knew, maybe Jules already had the concepts down. He hadn't said a damn thing about his own planet's politics. Did they have different countries? Wars? It was hard to imagine a somewhere without them.

"Ah, about that," interrupted The King. "There was another task I was planning on giving to you. Jules is a nice boy, and has been perfectly willing to aid in the city's defence, but for all his interest in Earth he is rather tight lipped about himself."

True. Jules asked a whole lot of questions, but he never seemed to want to say anything about himself, even if he was pretty bad at not being obvious about shit like 'my species has a way better sense of smell than yours.'

"That's exactly the sort of thing I'd love a report on," The King gestured back to call his guard from staring at the wall. "I have wanted to make sure our special visitor didn't feel too examined. He does seem rather terrified of the prospect of being sent to some lab. Must have seen a movie on TV. I've had some talks with the stations he has access to but there's only so much to be done about the internet."

Ah, how many summer blockbusters were they going to miss this year? 

The King waved off his concerns. "You worry too much about the little things, you know. Anyways, I want to treat our first extra-terrestrial visitor with soft gloves, but I also want to know something about this planet that's interested in us enough to send explorers. That's not unreasonable." 

No, David had honestly been quite surprised that Jules had not already been dragged into some secret corner of the building, and had instead been given almost total freedom.

"I've spent a good amount of time with the boy. I trust he means us no harm, but I do need to know more. It's obvious this form of his is not what he was born with. I want to know how his species got here, how they turned themselves so convincingly humanoid, and if anyone else may be coming along. I've made a nice little list for you." The King retrieved a notebook from his coat pocket, then tore the page in one swift flick of his hand.

Just fucking great. Well, David would do it. Of course he'd do it. He'd get started that very evening.

"Excellent!" The King said as David studied his list before turning towards the door. "Sad to say my usual methods aren't working. I'd hoped I'd be able to adapt with enough exposure but whatever he really is, even I can’t read his mind."

After The King was gone around the corner David leaned back in his chair and caught a glance of his partially opened drawer. The conversation had been so odd it hadn't been hard at all to not think about it.

*

A few hours later, texts to Jules sent, David waited in the main entrance lobby.

The lobby had been designed by the King's late mother. Her passion had been gardening. Which was a bit difficult when it was permafrost a metre down and the summer temperatures never reached the twenties.

So she'd developed a thing for making gardens indoors after her wedding, and her position had meant she could pull it off.

A temperate rainforest circled a massive fountain disguised as a waterfall. The place always felt a bit damp, a bit too warm, looked a bit too green. It smelled weird too, but that might have just been the dirt and plants. David didn't have much to compare to. 

There was some random art in there too, also wood, slowly decomposing where it touched the wet soil. So maybe that was the smell.

The area people could actually use was small and on solid tile. The desk where guests had to check in and out was metal underneath its wooden coating. Bulletproof metal.

Some of the benches were the same. David liked to use those if they weren’t full.

David wiggled, trying to get comfortable on the curved bench. He was probably a dick, sending Jules out in the shit weather when he could just go himself. 

He couldn't just stay inside forever because of a stupid prank.

Right?

David looked at his phone, almost swiped through to LINE.

That was when something by the fountains exploded and fucking robots started shooting at shit.

Thankfully it was a slow day, so David had the bench to himself.

*

David woke up under what may have been a desk, maybe have been a tree, his arm bent in a way he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to and the nose-pad of his glasses stabbing his eye. Also the robots were still there.

Shit. A quick struggle showed he wasn't getting out from the rubble. Even if he could reach the holster hidden under his coat he doubted he could take any of them out. His aim had always been shit. 

His best bet was to play dead and hope whoever had sent these guys hadn't programmed them very well. Sometimes if you just stayed still enough they couldn't register—

One turned to him. Damn. 

Then it exploded into junk.

Oh. Nice.

Jules had arrived fifteen minutes late with starbucks.


	2. Chapter 2

Fast, not as fast as the Pinks, but enough David had trouble following.

Jules was there, a bot fell. Jules was there. A bot fell.

One shot at him. Idiot. Jules could fucking dodge bullets. Could block them with, oh, yeah, the desk worked for that.

Another robot down.

All the awkwardness fell away when Jules fought. He didn't pause. He moved. He didn't fumble. He became smooth. Graceful even.

Fucking alien super soldier bullshit that was. If Jules's species did want to invade, Earth was fucked.

"David!" 

Oh, he was done. 

Jules rushed towards him. Ah, he'd dumped his coat. His shirt was ripped. Huh, he looked kinda nice like that.

Wait, that wasn't a thought when you had a bench crushing you.

Jules was still in competent mode. There was no weird looks or confused words, at least until Jules saw David's arm.

"Don't think it hit anything important. I'm barely bleeding, yeah?" David managed with some coughing. Which meant he was probably more fucked up than he'd thought.

Jules didn't answer, mouth a tight closed line. He'd looked up first aid or been taught, although David suspected such things went slightly different back home, because Jules seemed to know blood is supposed to be on the inside of one's body. 

"David, I think I can move you if not for your arm." Hands hovered over David's arm, jerking back when a finger brushed and caused David to wince. "Do you have spray?"

"Spray?"

"Spray, it—" He stuttered to a stop. Oh no, Jules was slipping back to his normal self already. "To keep the broken parts in place. Temporarily?"

"No?" said David, staring at the ceiling as Jules moved closer. Wow they'd taken out a shtton of trees. Was that smoke? Was the lobby on fire?

Ah, the sprinklers fizzed on.

The King was going to be pissed. 

The sprinkler water plastered Jules's hair to his face. Wow he was really close. On top of David, even. This was really not fair. Not fair at all.

"Here. I'm sorry if this is painful." Then Jules lifted David's broken arm off the floor in order to duct tape a ruler to it and fuck yeah it was painful enough to distract from that.

David proceeded to teach Jules many new and interesting words.

*

David had been born thirty four years ago in a shitty trailer in a shitty town that'd dug out the last of its industry two years prior. 

Either the snow was gritty and grey or the sky was thick with bugs, but being outside was always better than being at home with parents who only cared about getting shitfaced. David, like all of his siblings, figured out how to be anywhere but home as soon as he could walk. As for those siblings well, he'd never met them. He knew one had died. He knew the others had been taken by the government.

For some reason he never was.

David's main method of escape was school. He'd hated the other students, but they were still better than his parents and their 'friends.' Besides, once the bell rang the normal kids went home. That left David and the math teacher and lessons that even looking back as an adult who knew enough to know how fucked up it'd been, had still been a better option than home.

But. Still. He'd known he couldn't hide there forever.

So as soon as he'd had the courage he'd gone to the truck stop and traded his school-learning for a ride out of town. 

The city had, as part of him had expected, also been shitty.

David had quickly learned many new, also shitty skills.

Gotten arrested a bit due to those new skills.

Heard from a guy about a guy that needed extra hands. Blown someone for a ride to recruitment. Ended up in a freezing garage waiting for the mysterious new boss.

And that's when he'd met Al.

Now what most people remembered Al for was his face, and it was, generally, the first thing anyone noticed about him. Just because his face was half melting off people thought he was sloppy, gross. But the guy spent half an hour on his hair. He altered his suits himself so they fit right. He fucking shined his shoes every second day.

David had realised early in his life that he was a little fucked up. 

It was when he met Al he realised he was really fucked up.

It got even worse when after Al's group introduction of "Do any of you fuck-up even have your own guns?" and "Christ I guess I have to supply everything myself then" came some rather up close and personal firearms holding corrections where David found out that Al didn't just look cool, he smelled amazing.

But David was not going to try to fuck his boss.

Really.

There was no way in hell that would ever end well.

Really!

So he wasn't.

But fuck he wanted to. He'd never wanted to more in his entire life. In fact, it was probably the first time in his life he had wanted to, with no ulterior motive. Just. Wanting to.

But Al wasn't an idiot, and had spent his whole life learning how to tell if someone was trying not to stare at him. One day David had been ordered into Al's makeshift office and promptly cornered.

"Alright," Al'd started off, growl in his voice. "If you don't knock that shit off we're going to have a problem."

David, being an idiot, had played dumb.

"You trying to joke? You think I can't tell when someone's staring a hole in my head? I don't need anymore holes in there, kid."

Then David, being an idiot, had told the truth.

"I'm supposed to believe that? That what—you think I'm 'hot'?" 

A huge hand, so big it circled his neck. Rough calluses scraped skin as the grip tightened.

"You like to fuck monsters, Davey?" 

His toes lifted off the floor. He couldn't breathe.

"This getting you off?"

And then the drop, the quick backing away when Al realised he was.

"Wait, you uh, you seriously are?"

A long pause as David tied to regain his breath, sink into the wall, and kill a boner with his mind.

"…Is your neck okay?"

So. That'd been that.

A few weeks after David's embarrassment of a confession, and after a dozen or so times of Al banging him against a wall while otherwise keeping it business as usual, it turned out the rest of the gang wasn't happy about David's attempt to 'fuck his way to the top.' A half a dozen guys David hadn't considered friends, but had sort of slotted as on the same side, cornered him in the dingy basement they called a hangout when Al was out talking to bigger fish. They kicked David in the stomach until he threw up on Al's carpet and then started work on the rest of him.

He'd thought just before he passed out, "Well, that's what I get."

So obviously, he didn't know what happened when Al walked in and saw the mess. But he did know Al needed a new gang afterwards. And a new office.

David just woke up in some backroom 'hospital' with a breathing tube down his throat, several other tubes hooked up where he'd prefer they weren’t, and the hazy surprise that came with not being dead when you'd really thought your time was up.

But the bigger surprise was Al slumped on a white plastic chair beside the bed in the same suit David had last seen him in, abet now a tad singed. 

David's attempt to ask what the fuck, although hampered by the previously mentioned breathing tube, was enough to wake Al. Who, and surprises were just popping that day, launched himself off the chair and to David's side. 

"I'm so fucking sorry, Davey. I swear—" It took David a bewildered moment to register both the words and that Al was holding his hand. "Look, I know this doc, she'll look after you good, okay? Took out my appendix once."

Al kept talking, going on about how not to worry about the money, how he'd take care of it, how he'd take care of David. 

For the first time in his whole depressing life, David felt important to someone.

Maybe some people would have chafed at how over protective Al got, but David liked it. He mattered to someone. That it was someone who could and would set people on fire was a bonus.

Al looked after him. David tried to look after Al. Al got him doing work he was good at, sorting away money where no one but Al could find it. They watched stupid movies at 2 am. They got drunk at 5.

Some people died. Then a lot of people died. David got arrested. David ended up in the sick bed again for about the same reason he had the last time.

But this time Al never showed up.

No one did.

Not the time after that either. Or after that. 

If the King hadn't scooped him up for his ability to cook a book he'd of been dead ages ago. Now he just wanted to be.

Well, he'd thought that first night out of prison, staring at the ceiling of his new apartment with an empty bottle of brights 74,' that's what I get.'

*

0228 17:37 itisfrog  
JHQ on Fire. Avoid. I am awake now.

0228 18:00 Weekly_Mu   
Official statement regarding terrorist attack on Justice Head Quarters released states King not on site at time of attack. Full story at site.

*

David's hair was very soft. Jules did not have much to compare to. This was the first time he'd been allowed to pat someone's head like this and he only had the opportunity due to David still being unconscious. Still, it was an enjoyable texture.

"He's not a cat," someone commented. 

Jules could not place them. Male, a similar skin complexion to David yet a darker coloring of hair and eyes. He was older however, somewhere firmly past the age of adulthood but not yet old enough to be considered elderly. He wore a wrecked and singed gray suit and sat on one of the stretchers, holding a large ice pack against his ribs.

"I know he is not a cat." Jules had not yet had a chance to see a live cat. No one in the building owned pets, and while The Frog had two at her off-site apartment and was willing to share pictures via phone text, she would not allow Jules to visit her home.

He had seen one dog while fetching coffee for Jules. Although he was not certain. The creature had been nearly as bundled up as its owner.

"Then don't treat him like your damn pet," spat the man. "I know you, what you are."

"I see." A non-literal, common confirmation generally considered neutral unless certain tones were used. 

Jules did suspect his nature was what was called an 'open secret' inside the building. The king of the land had assured Jules that his status would not be revealed to the greater public or the press, but while humans did not share information quite as easily as Jules's own species, they certainly managed wide breadth. Paradoxically, especially when that information had been labelled 'do not re-distribute.'

The man glared. It was an easy expression to read. Jules appreciated its unsubtly.

Jules kept petting. From watching television he knew this was a socially acceptable gesture when one was concerned for an injured companion, especially if David remained unconscious for it. There was likely no further response to the man that would not provoke greater hostility, thus Jules chose silence. They were in the treatment ward of the JHQ, surrounded by medical professionals, other victims of the day's attack, and visitors. If the man attempted a physical altercation it would not end well for him. 

So Jules pretended to ignore him, and looked down at David instead. Dark red splotches of bruising scattered across every exposed area of skin. The damaged arm had been set and given an exo-skeleton-like hard bandage. Research on Jules's phone had said it could take over a month and a half to heal enough for the casing to be removed.

It would impede David's work, and most day to day activities. It had clearly hurt.

If Jules had been faster to return, perhaps it would not have happened.

"Hey!" The man said louder this time. "Don't just ignore me you--!"

"Wha-?" David stirred under Jules' hand with a garbled half-formed word.

"It is nothing, David. You can sleep still," Jules said, ignoring the loud man.

For a small, barely measurable moment of time, David pressed the side of his face harder into Jules' touch. Then his own hands came up, batting Jules away in what Jules hoped was mostly confusion. 

"Jules?" David's eyes only partially opened, staring at Jules for several seconds before glancing around the room, although, without his glasses Jules was uncertain of how much David actually saw. "Oh. You're-- Okay." 

Disorientation. A possible sign of concussion. Jules leaned forward to examine David's pupil size.

David blinked up at him with normal sized pupils. "Jules. What are you doing?"

The stranger scoffed.

Jules's dislike proportionally increased.

"According to the medical staff, your confirmed injuries are a broken arm and much bruising," Jules explained. "I was told you may go to your apartment one you are able to walk, although you will need to report for a check--"

"I can walk. I want to go to my apartment." David's un-injured arm made a grab for his glasses on the bedside table.

Jules pushed them into David's range. "You do not seem—"

"Then fucking carry me, Jules. I want to go home." A pause. David scrunched up his face as if the light of the room caused him pain. "Please."

Jules did not end up carrying David, technically. He simply held most of David's weight. It was not that David's legs were injured, it was the cloudiness of the painkillers that hindered him. Jules did not know exactly what types of chemicals they had used but the side-effects seemed severe.

The trip to David's apartment was uneventful but for a few stumbles, and odd words on the elevator when David leaned all his weight against Jules' side, his head against the back of David's neck.

"You smell like smoke," he said. 

Jules was unable to find any particular meaning to the statement. "Yes. There was a fire. It is out now."

"I don't like it." He did not elaborate further.

David's pass card was in his coat pocket, attached by a chain. A sensible precaution against loss. Jules took note. His own pass was currently inside of a wallet he had been gifted.

The layout of furniture was similar to Jules' own room. A bed. A table. A small fridge. 

David was almost entirely unconscious once more, and neither helped nor hindered Jules in removing his shoes. But with David unconscious, Jules was unsure on how to next proceed.

As much as Jules suspected David would not like his partially destroyed and bloodied clothes to sully his bed clothing, he also suspected David would be even less happy to know Jules removed his clothes and bathed him while unconscious. The human nudity taboo had been one of the easier ones to osmose.

With no clear solution to this conflict, Jules's actions stuttered to a stop. David made a muffled noise, possibly of pain.

Jules scanned the small room. A large towel sat in a pile on the floor near the door to what Jules presumed to be the bathroom.

Suitably wrapped, Jules tucked David under the covers. It was not a perfect solution but would have to suffice.

He checked David's arm cast. He checked David's breathing. 

He sat on the floor beside the bed.

He noticed one major difference from his own room. There was no television.

But for David's breathing, it was quiet.

First, as dinner had been interrupted, Jules investigated the small fridge that held up a pile of folders. It confirmed previous suspicions that David primarily consumed food off-premises.

Consuming leftovers and investigation of the apartment's contents took less than an hour. David had not stirred. It was likely he would be asleep until the next morning, even without the medication in his system. The time was now past four in the morning.

It was when Jules went to the bathroom to drink water that he remembered one of the few things David had said that night. Jules sniffed his arm. His clothing did smell strongly of smoke, among other things unpleasant. The shower was right beside the sink.

It was proper manners to not smell unpleasant in David's home. However he could not leave David alone when the man was in such a condition.

The solution to this problem was simple.

David's shower functioned the same as Jules's. The soap was a different brand. Larger, blocky, a translucent purple, and a scent Jules recognised. If he used it to smell more similar to David would that be too forward on Earth? He used it anyways, it was easier to stay in old habits than to worry about new rules he did not yet fully understand even when he suspected the local custom differed from his own.

Clothes were borrowed from the closet. Fit was adequate. Smell also lingered here, this time of detergents. 

Yet Jules could still smell smoke.

Then he spotted it, a small glass and metal object on the floor of the closet. The liquid inside sloshed against the blue glass walls. Jules popped the cap off. The scent was overwhelming.

Ah, this was the 'perfume' David had previously mentioned. Its stench was almost too much for Jules' nose, so bitter yet similar to the trees that grew indoors in the building. It would certainly overcome any lingering smell of smoke.

Jules sprayed himself once. That was enough.

He settled on the floor beside David's bed and began to browse his phone, and wait.

*

Shit dreams. Really shit dreams. Filled with smoke and pine and the smell of burning flesh.

The stumble into wakefulness may have involved some shouting.

"Hey, it's okay." Large warm hands, gentle but firm on his shoulders, settled David back down into the bed. "It's alright now."

David let himself be pulled closer, sunk into the embrace, face right flat against rough shirt, nose against a button. Just enough pressure to be comforting, not enough to confine. Warm. Yeah, it was fine. "Sorry."

"Nah." The words rumbled from above his head. Soft. Who'd ever believe it, this hard-ass soft around him. He'd knife anyone that knew and honestly? That made it better. "Nothing to be sorry about, Davey."

Then David was staring at the popcorn spackled ceiling of his JHQ apartment.

His arm was heavy.

Oh. Right. Cast. Broken arm. Fuck.

David took a nice long breath because it was better than screaming.

Silence, darkness and then—

A shuffling noise, flickering light of a phone-screen cycling pages.

There was someone in his apartment. What the fuck. "Good morning?"

"David!" Oh, it was Jules. That kinda wasn't as bad. Somehow. At least it made more sense than anyone else hanging around watching him sleep. "Are you thirsty?"

Probably. Yes. Sure. Fuck it just keep staring at the ceiling. Maybe it had answers. "I think?"

The sound of movement, a few cracks of the floor as Jules went in and out of the washroom.

David forced himself up, just enough to drink. That was about all he could manage past wondering if Jules had managed to find a clean glass. Most days David couldn't.

Jules hovered over the edge of the bed to take back the glass. "Do you need food as well?"

David's stomach rebelled at the very suggestion. "No, ugh, is my phone around?"

Hell, he'd been knocked out, right? Did he still have his wallet? His gun? Not great to lose either in a lobby on fire.

Oh, right, the lobby had been on fire. Robots.

He gave himself a quick pat down, made interesting by the fact he was a towel taco. Okay, weird.

At least all his stuff was still on him.

"Do you wish to shower?"

Oh Hell no. "I am so not up for that right now. Just gonna pass out again thanks."

Jules gave him a look. David was certain it was a judgmental look. Maybe that was projection. "It would be best to at least change out of your damaged clothing so as to not further soil the bed."

Ugh, fine. Jules raised his arms. "Carry me to the washroom. Please."

Jules actually did. Goddamnit, why was he so fucking strong? David was going to blame the blushing on the painkillers. His head was woozy as fuck. Yeah, that was it. Worse than any alcohol that stuff. Couldn't even keep his head up. That's why it lolled against Jules' neck. For support.

Jules deposited him on the rim of the bathtub. When David started to topple, one hand came back to keep him upright as he emptied his pockets. Wallet. Keys. Doorpass. Gun. 

Jules cocked his head to one side at that one. What, did he think David didn't go to work armed? Today—or had it been yesterday now?—wasn't the first time JHQ had been attacked. It wouldn't be the last.

Even if it were, well David didn't go anywhere unarmed if he had a choice on the matter. He hadn't since his teens, since he'd stolen his first gun from the neighbour's truck.

David let it drop into the sink with a clunk.

Jules startled.

Eh, okay, maybe he was a little lax on gun safety. Bad habits. Hard to kick. At least he wasn't carrying the damn thing down the back of his pants like when he'd been an edgy teen, okay?

"Ugh." Was that groan from trying to take off his suit coat one handed or from remembering his dumbass past? Even David didn't know.

Oh no. The cast. Some bastard had cut off his sleeve to put on the damn cast.

"My suit…" Those things were not cheap.

"I apologise for the destruction of your suit," Jules said.

"Nah, not your fault." And it wasn't. But he sure kept acting like it was.

No matter how much David said he was fine, Jules wouldn't leave, and David just didn't have it in him to kick the guy out. Jules had forced David to eat a cookie—and where the hell had Jules found a cookie?-- before he could down more painkillers. Now the buzz of sedatives kicking in on a mostly empty stomach was taking over. Arguing with Jules to leave was no longer something David could keep up with.

"I don't even have a TV and I'm probably just going to pass out again." Probably. Hopefully. "I mean, thanks for getting me here. Really. But you don't have to stick around now."

"I will not be bored." Jules sat in the floor, back against the mattress of David's bed. "I have been watching animal videos. Earth has an amazing amount of biological diversity."

Huh. Okay. David was just too tired to think long enough to argue.  
David watched the shadows and light flicker on the ceiling until that stopped amusing him. His throat was dry but he didn’t want to ask for more nursing than he'd already had. Somewhere, deep far down he recalled you were supposed to look after guests, not have them look after you. Right?

But damn he was bored. Bored and useless and—

Oh, right. There was something he could work on.

"Hey." David let one arm drop, touch light against Jules' shoulder. "Tell me about your planet."

Jules said nothing, but the flickering shuffling of the screenlight ceased. A glance down showed the screen settled on a selection of bug feeding videos. Gross.

Fuck it. David was drugged out of his mind, on orders to investigate the space alien currently playing his nurse, and really, he was curious.

"You have a mission to investigate Earth, specifically humans, but you won't tell anyone about your own planet. And Jules, no matter how much you try and demure that you lot are just like us, you're a shit liar." He poked the side of Jules' arm. "Sometimes I think you might be a robot."

"I am not a robot," Jules said with that flat but unconcerned tone he used that almost made it sound like he wasn't really paying attention to you anymore.

"There's nothing wrong with being a robot."

"I am not a robot," Jules repeated, slower. 

"I don't care what you are, my point is no one knows anything about you, while you've been allowed to run around like the city is a petting zoo." Ok maybe that was a bit harsh. David could blame the drugs for revealing his true asshole self.

Silence. Long enough to make it awkward. To make David really feel like a heel for asking.

Ugh. "I mean—"

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this." The words came halting. "No one was supposed to know we were here, thus all my orders are to avoid telling humans anything."

David knew that, he'd read the interview transcripts from when Jules had arrived. He'd read them all one Jules had made visiting him an everyday thing. Thirty-one others were supposed to have landed near David, made contact, remained hidden. 

"I am not supposed to make decisions as large as letting Humanity know my planet exists."

"Hey." David poked Jules' arm again, but a bit gentler this time. "It's good to be wary, most people can barely handle superpowers, they'd freak out at aliens, but here's okay. And I've never been a snitch in my life. You can tell me shit and no one else will ever hear it, alright?"

It was true. David had many failings. Being unable to keep secrets was not one of them. Death hadn't changed that. Prison hadn't changed that. An alien saying he was actually a robot or something wouldn't either.

David could honestly with no qualifications state that he would repeat anything Jules told him out loud.

He could not, of course, control what The King might pick up from his mind.

More silence.

"Hey, how about something safe? What do you even call your planet?" Jules had given a technical designation, a series of letters and numbers David hadn't understood but apparently could be used to find the thing if given to astronomers. If he could tell people where the dang thing was, he could give up its name, right?

"I have not been able to decide how to pronounce it properly," Jules eventually said. "It feels disrespectful to give an improper name."

That didn't sound unreasonable, but meant David had hit a dead end. Okay, try two. "So, if someone is injured at your home, you watch them sleep all night like this?"

"Yes, this is normal. At home…" The sound trailed off again and David thought he'd have to try something else. "At home one is rarely alone. All sleeping is communal. There are no separate rooms for individuals, and almost all activities and decisions are conducted in pairs at the minimum."

"What, everything?" That sounded kind of like Hell to David. 

"Yes," said Jules. "To be left alone for an extended period of time is unheard of unless punishment for a serious crime. In such cases the death penalty is seen as kinder."

Being alone worse than death? "No wonder you were upset when you saw your apartment."

"I did wonder if I was being imprisoned, but I was able to open the door after you left," replied Jules, once more shuffling phone videos. "I explored the floor yet was unable to find anyone else. However, the television has been useful as a distraction. I do not understand why you do not have one."

"Wait, is this why you're so—" Don't say 'clingy.' Don't say--

"I was made to be more independent as the size of the mission cohort would be so small, but we were supposed to use, I think it is called 'the buddy system'?" Jules turned his head to face David's good arm, his nose just brushing it. Was he sniffing it? He was sniffing it. "Similar to how I was originally not allowed to leave the Justice Headquarters un-accompanied, but with a different motive."

Depressing. Really fucking depressing. But fuck did a lot of Jules's weirdness suddenly make sense. 

"Hey. Come up on the bed," said David.

Jules's head tilted in that way that made it seem as if he was waiting for something else after the words. Fuck, he probably was.

"It's cold on the floor, get up here."

Jules didn't need to be told a third time. 

Now this was almost certainly a horrible idea and David blamed the meds. Asking a guy to get in bed with him was asking for trouble. But it was easier to wrangle the technicalities of moving a dead arm out of the way for a another body to have room, than to deal with Jules just admitting he'd never been alone before being stuck as the only alien on Earth. 

Jules settled in a spot against the wall, close enough he almost touched David. Close enough that for once David could even smell him he—

That wasn't right.

Greeny, herby, weirdly fruity—

What. The fuck.

"David?" Jules asked. "Are you all right? You are behaving strangely." He might have asked about the meds after that. 

David didn't hear.

"Why-?" The word was strangled off by the involuntary closing of his own throat. His lung scrunched into themselves, refusing to take in anymore air. That didn't make sense. Why did he? What he? How--?

"David?"

Fuck.

"David, you have to breathe."

Something was heavy. Something was too heavy.

"David, please breathe."

It was him, Jules. Why the fuck did he smell like that? Why was he grabbing David? That wasn't right. That wasn't fair!

"I'm sorry. I wanted to—"

Something something shower smoke something. Fuck that. Fuck this. This was stupid. David was being stupid. This wasn't anything to be upset about. Why was he upset? That was dumb. He shouldn't-- He should just stop being upset--

Jules's arms circled him, then he hugged, tight. 

Somehow, David had no idea why, it helped. It helped enough David's mind managed to pause its reeling in circles of horror to form a question: "What the fuck are you doing?"

One of Jules' hands found David's, twining their fingers. The other braced David's cast against his own chest. "This is standard practice, to surround someone upset with warmth. From what I have seen it is also an accepted technique here."

That was one way to explain a goddamn hug. "Yeah, pretty much." He wasn't freaked out now. He was just tired. Okay, his hands were shaking but mostly he was tired. What the fuck was he gonna say? 'Yeah I'm having a goddamn panic attack because you found my ex's cologne'? Which by the way, David had no damn reason to own and had bought in a moment of weakness one boxing day sale five years after the fucker died? 

Yeah, there was a batch of concepts David didn't want to teach to Jules tonight. 

Or any night. 

Jules meanwhile, still had a death-tight squeeze going on. "Your breathing is still—"  
"Jules, just—" Don't say shut up. Don't—"Give me a moment."

It was warm. It was heavy. David scrunched tighter, pressing his face into Jules' chest until finally the meds took him out.

*

Jules 1:36:46 AM  
Thank you for the cat picture.

Jules 9:02:48 AM  
I would like to ask your advice.

Frog 10:23:32 AM  
Ok

Jules 10:42:02 AM  
First I must ask how the situation with the lobby has been progressing. Although I have been receiving updates from various people, more perspective is always useful. I have been told we are to use the conference room C and exit 2-B until sufficient repairs have been made. Also, Little Pink said that once they kept fish in the fountains. Do you think those in charge of the renovations could be persuaded to do so again? I would like to see a salmon someday. However, my main questions concern David. As I informed you last night, he was among the injured in the attack. His cast seems to have held up overnight but he has a large amount of bruising left. (Bruising lasts a long time?) Also it is possible he had an adverse reaction to his painkillers among other incidents. I have accidently upset him by smelling incorrectly. (I apologise but I cannot give further details at this point.) Although I had thought we had made a great amount of progress in our relationship, as of those morning David seems very displeased with me and made me leave his room almost immediately upon waking. Although I soon returned to his apartment with coffee and breakfast (I went to the deli you had mentioned several days previously and indeed the coffee is much better than that created by the percolator by the archives, and they made a very cute design on the latte however they said the clementine-cranberry scones will be discontinued after Friday) he was no longer there. Do you think he had a medical appointment? They probably need to continue to check his injuries. They were quite busy last night. (I apologise for not earlier inquiring whether anyone else to us has been seriously harmed but it appeared that David was one of the most seriously injured.) To return to my main point, I have never stayed overnight in another's home before this. Are David's actions normal? I do not think so but I want to check. Do you think he is angry at me? Do you know why he m

Jules 10:42:04 AM   
ight be angry at me?  
Sorry that did not fit. Also Pink Falcon has told me that I 'came on too strong' and 'should not sleep with someone on painkillers on the first date.' I asked her to clarify as first of all this would not be classified as a 'date' and if any of our interactions could be called 'dates,' there would have been many already as David and I have eaten food together in a public environment multiple times but then she sent me pictures of people laughing. I do not appreciate that.

Frog 10:48:59 AM  
Ok


	3. Chapter 3

Two days after one of the most embarrassing nights of his life, David was cornered.

"I can't believe you," Bonnie Kirke, currently out of her Pink Falcon uniform and wearing something expensive from her latest collection. She had a latte in one hand and the other waved in David's face. "Slept with spaceboy then broke his heart."

"I did not—" He paused. Goddamn, her coffee looked so much better than his. "No, whatever you think, no. Also, I have work."

Not even a lie. This was an important year for the King's rule, thirty years on the throne, and the celebrations were ramping into high gear. Everyone was busy. And that meant everyone needed forms and shit. Not to mention, they'd just lost the use of the lobby for who knew how long so an entire chunk of staff had to be moved and kept running with most of their supplies buried under trees, rubble, and any snow that got in through the tarps. So much had to be re-ordered. There were so many repairs to get scheduled. Which also meant dipping into the emergency fund. Which meant—

Oh god her nails were really long and really close to his face. How did she punch people with those?

"Look, you," she pointed one incredibly long bedazzled acrylic at his nose. "If you don't like the kid, just tell him off already. Dump his ass. Be blunt. But get it over with. He's blowing up my phone and I feel sorry for his dumb ass."

"This isn't—"

"And another thing!" The hand retracted only to shove a piece of paper even closer into his personal space. "Here's the paperwork to sell my merch at the event. You want anything else, call my lawyer, not me."

Then David was left with shitty coffee, more forms, and an ever rising sense of guilt.

He hadn't been answering Jules' text. Or his calls. He might have slept under his desk one night, just in case.

He was a fucking coward.

David dodged a few more attempted filings until he was safely behind the closed and shuttered door of his office. A stack of papers made a good enough place to face-plant.

He didn't want to tell Jules to fuck off. That was the whole problem. But—

The envelope with the ring still sat there, burning a hole in his drawer. David went one drawer higher and grabbed the cheapass bottle of vodka he'd bought months ago when the weather had started to turn cold.

Yeah, it was going to be another great day.

He poured some in the coffee. Took a gulp. It was, as always, terrible. 

His cellphone was within reach of his good arm. Today was a day to make bad choices. He found his chat with Jules. Read an ever shortening series of texts asking what was wrong and if David was okay.

He was so not okay. Stupid arm. He took out his bottle of pain pills. Wrote a message to Jules. Drank some coffee. Deleted the message to Jules. Downed a few pills with his next chug of coffee. Wrote a new message. Sent the message. Remembered his coffee was spiked with hobo booze.

Got rather dizzy.

Yeah, today was a day of bad choices, he thought as he again dropped his head onto his pile of paper. This time it stayed there.

*

0304 Weekly_Mu  
To kick off the celebrations for our dear King's Pearl Anniversary, tonight we'll have exclusive coverage of the Announcement Ball, see site for streaming details.

0304 Mu_Underground2  
Play 'spot the reptilian' by watching the coverage in slow motion.

Fastimes Replying to Weekly_Mu 14:07  
Are you joking or have you finally tipped into pure insanity I can't tell

Mu_Underground2 Replying to Fastimes 14:10  
Aliens have 100% infiltrated the highest levels of our government. There are at least two I can confirm, DM me.

Kasy43 replying to UNAVAILABLE  
OMG he got deleted again

*

David had one formal suit, purchased long ago under duress, and it didn't fit. He only brought it out for mandatory events like this, a reception/party to formally kick off the year's pearl anniversary marathon. Everyone important that the King could manage to convince to come this close to the arctic circle in march was here, and to fill in the gaps were his employees. 

It was framed as a reward for good work. It was Hell with the promise of free alcohol barely making it tolerable.

David leaned against a pillar in the huge-ass ballroom that the JHQ kept for just these sorts of occasions, clutching a flute of fancy champagne. He'd only taken a pill a few hours ago. He'd be fine. Probably. If not the bathrooms were just on the other side of the fountain. 

To his left he had a clear shot at the desserts table. To the right, the bathrooms. Combined with the potted plants giving him cover it was a good spot.

The ballroom was one of the oldest parts of the Justice Headquarters complex, must of the later buildings being built around it. It had been a wannabe castle once, then a series of disastrous renovations had destroyed most of the original charm. Or so David had been told. Many times.

People wandered about in cliques and pairs. Nearby at the closest of the open bars, the Crown Prince had an audience of admirers as he showed off his amazing powers. Woo he could make things float. Amazing.

One of the onlookers, unfortunately, was Jules, who might have been the only one that looked genuinely interested.

In the back pocket of his pants, David' phone buzzed.

DA KING: I believe I told you to keep our spacefaring friend away from my son.

Fuck.

Okay, fine. David could play the same game. He opened his chat history with Jules. Apparently before passing out the previous night, David had sent a video of a cat eating a banana.

Jules: I do not understand, are cats not carnivorous? However, I am glad you have responded. Does this mean we are friends again?   
Jules: Pink Falcon said you are threatening me.  
Jules: I do not understand.  
Jules: Please respond.

Upon awakening David had decided to just, not reply to that. Whatever that had been. But, it seemed, he was going to get in shit with the Boss if he didn't. Besides, it wasn't like Jules getting on with Prince Dumbass was a good thing.

Prince Martis Caelestis the 3rd had inherited everything from his mother but her brain. As far as David knew the Queen had been an okay person, loving mothing, supportive wife who managed to balance the budget after eight years of debt, enough of a philanthropist that her untimely death—very untimely, David's conscience added--had caused legitimate mourning. She'd been from far away, some small time European royalty offshoot, just the sort the King's forefathers had loved to intermarry with. She'd hated the cold and the Prince had half grown up far away from his future playland. Not always a bad thing, but it wouldn't have mattered where he'd gone, he was a natural born dumbass.

But he had power and a future that promised more power, so he always had a crowd. Just like now except—

Jules had his phone out, like always, but the Prince was done with his air show. The Prince had his hand on Jules' waist. No, he was slipping it under Jules' suit coat.

David emptied his glass. Set it on the window sill. 

He texted Jules the strangest cat picture he could find.

Immediately:

Jules: I am sorry. I do not understand.  
David: So get your ass over here where I can explain it.

Okay, maybe a few hours wasn't enough space to start drinking the bubbly. 

The plan still worked. Jules peeled himself away from the handsy heir and made a bee-line for David's hiding spot. David didn't even have to wave. He did anyways, just to keep it casual.

As Jules neared, David slid sideways around the pillar, angling them away from the Prince's glares and more into the potted ferns. Jules' steps faltered, but he followed.

"Firstly, I didn't mean anything by mentioning your ass." It was important to get that one out of the way quickly. Jules' ass existed. It was adequate. There was no deeper meaning.

"Oh," said Jules. His suit fit. It also looked like it came from the same place the King shopped. Then again the Prince shopped there too. Which had taken him? "I am familiar with that expression. I have heard it quite often while working."

Good. "Good." Good.

Jules stared at him. This was normal. He did not say anything. This was not.

Then Jules leaned forward, and sniffed David. He frowned, before glancing to the empty glass on the ledge. "You are intoxicated."

"Maybe a little," replied David, suddenly somehow even more uncomfortable. He'd gotten Jules away from the Prince. Now what? If he stopped talking, Jules would just go back. If he kept talking… well that seemed even more dangerous. At least the pillar stayed solid against his back. "Open bar. If you want to experiment, tonight's the night."

Jules didn't have any drink in his hand, just his phone. Did he even drink? When they had gone out he'd always ordered obscenely sugary soda or coffee. Maybe they could get a pina colada.

"That is true, but I have been warned away from alcohol." Jules glanced down at his phone, tap tapping away. Always tapping. "By several people."

"Well—"

"I have been warned away from you as well."

Well.

Jules leaned in again, his nose almost touching David's. They were close enough that if one of them moved just a little—

Jules sniffed. "You are very intoxicated. When was the last time you consumed pain medication for your arm?"

David jerked his head back, unfortunately right into the pillar, but he tried to ignore it. "That, is not your business."

"Why?" asked Jules. "Is it the same reason you have begun avoiding me? If you tell me what I have done wrong I will correct my behaviour."

"I—" David knew deep in an ignored part of his mind, he probably owed Jules an examination on that one. David had made a fool of himself, then flaked out, then been a giant chicken. This was on him. 

But before David could piece together some combination of words that would both explain and not make himself seem like more of a dick, Jules took a step back. "The Prince of Mu has made it clear he wishes to have sexual relations with me." 

Well damn there went any coherent sentences David had on the production line. "What."

"He said so quite bluntly after I misunderstood his first insinuations." Jules nodded as he talked, as if letting David in on some secret.

"He what?" 

Jules tilted his head to one side. "However, I feel I must decline as the majority of human cultures place a high value on monogamy, and your Prince is currently wed."

Right. The Princess was currently, and for most of the year, in Dubai. David had barely ever seen her, and certainly never talked to her. Rumour was she might be pregnant again. If so she would be back in a few months, all heirs had to be born in their future kingdom.

"Jealousy seems to be a powerful emotion in humans. I admit I have a difficult time understanding it, as such a thing does not exist in my own culture," continued Jules. "If I were to have sexual relations with her husband, the Princess' jealously would be not only socially warranted, but likely to cause me severe harm as although she does not hold as high a status as her husband she is of far higher status than I. "

"Well—" As far as David knew she'd never managed to ruin the lives of her husband's previous affairs, but really, no reason to tell Jules that.

Jules, though, Jules wasn't even feeling up his phone anymore, what was going on here. "I theorize this intense emotion is tied to human's obsession with possession. Each individual believes they deserve total control over things that they have deemed 'theirs,' be it an inanimate object like a coffee cup, an abstract like wealth, or most interestingly, other sentient creatures. Once something is thought of as owned, the owner will have a desire to keep it to themselves. This desire seems to be strengthened if others attempt to take the claimed subject away."

"Yes, we're very selfish." Ah, back to familiar territory of Jules insulting the entire human race. It was almost like everything was back to normal except Jules put his hand against the pillar, inches from David's face.

"Does this bother you?"

"That humans suck?"

"That the Prince wants to commit adultery with me."

David glanced over Jules' shoulder. Managed a hopefully casual shrug. At least it seemed Jules had already decided not to. If the King was upset at the Prince being friends, well. "It's not my business who the Prince sleeps with, but you're right, never good to be a homewrecker. You're navigating those social conventions good there."

*

Jules continued to stare at David. 

What had he done wrong? Everything had seemingly gone well, but now nothing was working. Did David actually not like him? Had he never liked him, or had he simply changed his mind? Was that normal and Jules should have expected it? Or, did David actually like him but have some reason to act as if he didn't? If so, what was it? Could it be dealt with? Or, a depressing possibility, was Pink Falcon correct that David was simply not work the effort?

Jules had invested a considerable amount of time, energy and effort—

David glanced to Jules' side just as Jules felt the weight of a hand landing on his right shoulder. The action should not have startled him. He was not paying enough attention. This was not acceptable.

He could feel himself frown, and the action was not on purpose. This was also not acceptable.

Everything was going so poorly. If only he at least understood why.

But, that was not Little Pink's fault. So Jules attempted to correct his facial expression before turning towards him. "Hello."

"Hi." Little Pink smiled, which it seemed to take him effort as well, more so when he looked at David, the side of his mouth dipping back down slightly for under a second. "You two losers want to tell my sister she's hot? She spent four hours on her hair."

Although Jules was shaky on human hair practices, his own thankfully being short enough he could so far maintain it with simple washing, Pink Falcon was looking very aesthetically pleasing as far as Jules could discern. Although he had learned enough to never ask directly, it did indeed look as if she had spent a considerable amount of time and effort.

She too, appeared to need effort to smile at David. The muscles under her eyes only contracted when she returned her gaze to her sibling. 

"Brought me some fans, did you?" She handed her glass to Falcon X, who frowned openly. She then twirled. "Alright, take it all in. Goes on sale next month."

She had taken advantage of the ballroom's interior heating to wear a dress so short Jules would have classified it as a shirt if not otherwise informed. The sides were held together with golden chains, and pink crystals decorated the edges creating fascinating reflections on the marbleized ballroom floor. The fabric, which seemed to be a synthetic blend, was her standard colour pink, and based her company's designer line. Although Pink Falcon's main occupation was her contract with the Mu JHQ, much of her considerable wealth was from her fashion and merchandise lines. 

Jules had investigated the website the majority of her wares for sale, but they were not only majorly aimed at women, but according to Frog, far too expensive. 

Falcon X and Little Pink's outfits were well matched to their leader. In this culture, fashion choices appeared to be much more limiting for men. All in the ballroom wore similar suits, their options for the individual expression humans so valued limited to subtleties of cuts, colours, and accessories.

It was possible that Falcon X and Little Pink could also be classified as accessories belonging to Pink Falcon. The Pink Gang was a unit, and Pink Falcon was undeniably at the top of that unit. Such hierarchy appeared to be integral to human social systems, although their particular configuration seemed to be rare. More commonly a male would hold the highest tier, while any women would be placed below. Why this was, Jules had not been able to discover.

Little Pink clapped.

"You look better than everyone else here," said David.

"Yes," said Jules, "You look very good."

She shrugged as Falcon X returned her glass. "I'll take it."

Pink Falcon nodded towards David's arm cast and the lightly patterned sling that kept it close to his torso. The colour matched his tie. The pattern did not. "Nice cast. Want an autograph?"

David shrugged. "Sure. Got a pen?"

Falcon X produced a pink sharpie from a pocket of his suit then handed it to Pink Falcon. She proceeded to write her title on David's out-held cast.

"Should the others sign too, or am I special?" asked Pink Falcon.

David's smile was also fake. This was common for him. Jules was quickly learning that the key to reading happiness on another's expression was the eye area. The mouth only lied. "I have no idea what the correct answer to that is." 

His cast was signed anyways. As soon as the third name was written Jules made certain to hold out his hand.

Falcon X glanced to Pink Falcon, then David, then back.

Surely if everyone else was marking their names on David's broken arm, Jules could as well?

"What is the purpose of this?" he asked, as Falcon X handed him the writing tool that stank of sharp volatile elements. He un-capped it while he remembered how to form his hand properly.

"Tradition or something," Pink Falcon said with a shrug. "Shit, they just brought out dessert. I'm getting in there before the good shit's gone."

"Feel free to keep X's pen," Little Pink called as he forced the other man to follow his sister. "He's in the doghouse anyways. He deserves this."

Jules did not quite hear Falcon X's answer but by the tone it was not complimentary.

Regardless, the gift was kind. However Jules found getting the cap off of the marker difficult to manage while also keeping his hold proper.

"Here." David's unbound hand came up to Jules', adjusting his fingers properly, just as he had on their first meeting. "I'll try and hold the arm steady but don't worry too much, everything's going to be covered by my sling anyway."

"That is true." Still, Jules attempted to have better penmanship on his second try. Once again he could feel himself frowning without his conscious instruction.

"Maybe it's for luck or something," David said after Jules had the marker safely caped. "Or to show you know people and aren't such a loser no one wants to temporarily graffiti your limb. It's not like, marking ownership or anything like that, if you're wondering."

"I had not thought it to be."

David made a humming noise, then nodded towards the table the others had left for. "Go ahead and grab desert, don't mind me. I'm not battling the crowd."

"Could I bring you something?"

And so Jules set out on a mission to obtain two plates of 'whatever looks ok I guess.'

The mass of bodies at the table refused to organize into a line or any sort of orderly assembly. Although Jules was used to larger groups than this at feeding times, human's capacity for chaos was intimidating. The table was full of various foods, surely there was enough for all, and yet they acted as if the situation was the opposite.

He targeted a dessert near the edge of the table. It was a rounded lump of baked mass, likely chocolate flavoured, with a glossy lighter brown coating, while a dark red syrup oozed from the cuts that divided the cake into mostly equal pieces. The smell was of intensely caramelized sugar and fruit. There were many portions remaining.

He duly returned with two plates, the associated cutlery and a napkin for each.

David was able to hold the plate in his injured hand, and while he poked at the cake portion, Jules began to eat. The flavour was strong, much stronger and sharper than anticipated, but sugar-filled, and good. He quickly consumed more.

"Hey, wait…" David was still in the process of investigating his food, poking it with his plastic fork. 

Odd, surely the King would not give his subjects anything which could harm them. Although, he felt a strange warm fuzz beginning in his chest.

"Uh, Jules, wait."

Jules looked up from his meal, mid chew. He swallowed, as talking while eating was both impolite and potentially wasteful. His stomach fizzed. Perhaps he needed to slow down. "Yes?"

"I'm pretty sure this cake is soaked in sherry, Jules."

Luckily, David was able to escort him to the washroom before Jules began to involuntarily regurgitate.

*

Jules greatly disliked the acid stinging of his vomit. The human body, he concluded, was terrible. So many species regurgitated food in a voluntary and still-edible manner. His own had once been one. The practice was now seldom used except in case of emergency, but it was possible, and not unpleasant. 

Yet humans—

For humans it was like this. A violent expunging of harmful material that offended every sense Jules could manage in his hobbled state.

"I hate his," he concluded.

"Makes sense," said David, reaching to press a water bottle against Jules' face. He kneeled on the dirty floor as if it were no contamination to worry about. "If you think you're done drink this."

Jules was not done.

His head ached, his sinuses burned, this throat singed, his mouth tasted rank, and the tiled floor was not only dirty but hard and cold on his knees. Still, his single stomach burbled.

"I hate this very much."

David put his un-harmed arm under Jules and pulled him away from the bowl. "Okay look, let's just, get you over to the nurses' office."

David attempted to make them stand together. Jules remained loose. This feeling was almost not so marred by his sickness to be pleasant. 

"Or I could call them to get you." Sadly David did not seem to find it so pleasant, grumbling something indecipherable as he struggled to get a better grip with one hindered arm and while holding a water bottle. Jules could not see but he suspected the man was frowning. 

"No." Jules drew the sound out. "Do not please. I am not dying. We may stay here."

David flopped them both against the blue stall wall, releasing Jules, which was disappointing. "You don't sound very convincing."

Drawing out noises was oddly satisfying. "Nooo." 

"Seriously, you're freaking me out here." David it seemed, could lift Jules to his feet if he truly wanted to, even with a broken arm. While normally that would have been a positive surprise, in this context Jules was forced to resist.

"No. I am fine," he repeated. Proving this sadly necessitated releasing himself from David's hold. He only needed to stabilize himself with a hand on the stall wall for a moment. "I am reasonably certain all the contents of my stomach have been expelled."

David again grabbed him, an again shoved the bottle on Jules' face. "Great, drink this on the way to the morgue."

Jules took the bottle. Contemplated it as they neared the door. The label extolled the virtues of filtered arctic glacier water from central Mu mountains. "No, I am fine. I do not need medical attention."

"You puked for five minutes after have half a slice of boozy cake. That's not normal and you're a fucking space alien. You could be poisoned or something." 

"I do not need medical attention." He took a drink from the water bottle. It tasted like normal water, but the tinge of his sickness lingered in his mouth. He would need to clean as soon as possible. For now he let David lead him out the door. "Please."

David led them behind a convenient grouping of potted ferns, effectively blocking them from the sight line of the main ballroom as they headed for the exit. 

"Jules." The tone and speed David used to say Jules' name indicated displeasure, but combined with the tight grip on Jules' arm and the context, it was not unpleasant to hear. David was upset with him because he was concerned for his well-being. After days of being ignored, such concern was wonderful. 

"I am fine." He would be fine. More fine than if he allowed himself to be subjected to medical examination for no purpose. The examination upon his capture had been cursory, non-invasive, but if the medical professionals were given an excuse, he had worry they would use it to delve too far for him to cover. "Please just take me to my apartment. I promise I am fine now. I do not want to be examined by the doctors."

David did not answer for a moment, and Jules attempted to prepare more arguments, but then David sighed deeply, and tried again to take Jules' weight. "Fine. Nearest door'll be to our right. Let's try to avoid getting stopped. But if you're going to toss up again give me warning, I know where all the potted plants are along the route."

*

What a reversal of fortune. Now it was David's turn to drag Jules up flights of stairs, several elevators, and finally a stretch of hallway, to open his apartment door and deposit the man inside. At least Jules'd stopped puking. He had, however, started nuzzling into David's neck.

"Other than the alcohol, I like how you smell," Jules said into David's shirt collar. 

This night was just getting more and more dangerous, wasn't it?

"Yeah okay," replied David, and tried to detangle as quickly as possible.

It had been a while since David had last seen Jules' room. Several more comforters had been added to the bed, all in bright colours and currently folded into squares. Jules fully detached, David flopped down onto the pile. Looking up, the ceiling was now plastered with a few magazines worth of pictures. Several National Geographics had died for this. There didn't seem to be a preference, lizards, cats, bugs, everything was up there. The only pattern he could tell was a heck of a lot of ant pictures clustered around the bed.

Okay. Weird.

Jules stared down at him. "I should have a shower. This will help counteract the effects of the toxin."

David gave a thumbs up. "Go for it."

"You should have a shower as well."

"Probably."

Jules stared at him. The bugs on the ceiling stared at him. He felt almost sober. He needed more booze. He knew he wouldn't be getting any. 

Maybe Jules was fine now. But maybe he wasn't. He sure as hell was still sick, and leaving him alone—

Well, David couldn't just dump him and hope for the best. Hell, even if physically Jules did turn out to be fine, from what David recalled from when the shoes had been on different feet leaving sick people alone was just not done on Planet Jules. 

David had been a dick to the guy, he could at least try to make his first ever hangover less shitty by platonically sleeping on the floor.

And he was sticking to the floor. The last morning after had opened with enough awkward boner troubles for the rest of David's life. 

"We could shower together to save resources," said Jules. From the way he said it, it almost sounded innocent.

That didn't help.

Looking at the ceiling helped.

"No, I'm good. Go on ahead there."

Eventually, Jules did.

David rolled off the bed and clicked the television on. Shopping channel. Okay.

He was listening to two men extolling the virtues of chocolate diamonds when Jules stepped out of the bathroom with only his pajama pants on.

Of course he was ripped. Why this, why any of this.

At least Jules didn't look like he was going to drop dead from poison. A little droopy, maybe but—

David scanned the room, trying to find something distracting. A sad little leafy thing perched on a stack of amazon boxes by the only window caught his eye. "Nice plant."

"The plant is ill," Jules replied. His pants were loose, which was good, but also had a pattern so intricate that David felt if he stared long enough a picture might emerge, like those horrible posters from the 90s. This was bad. "I do not know why."

"Light, maybe?" Not much plant life survived in Mu, inside or outside. But then, David knew jack shit about houseplants. Even tearing his attention away from the insanity on Jules' legs to study the plant, he had no idea what it was. Some sort of kinda cactus thing that wasn't weed. "You can get lamps for that."

Weed of course, grew anywhere with enough electricity. That was probably applicable here too, right?

"Plants need light?"

*

"We'll have a sleep over." David grabbed one blanket and wrapped it around himself before settling down on the floor in front of the television. "You know: when kids stay up late, braid each other's hair and talk about boys? Do you guys have those?"

"We do not have those." Jules did not move from where he was adjusting the sad plant. "But I am glad you will be staying. Do you wish to borrow sleeping clothing?"

David really didn't but it was probably best not to sleep in his suit. It had been through enough.

An awkward go at washing up in someone else's bathroom later, David had—

A fuzzy loose two-piece set in pink and purple with two things on the hood that looked suspiciously like ears.

"It is very warm," said Jules.

It was.

As the night progressed somehow David ended covered in blankets, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, bag of shrimp chips between him and Jules, watching the Shopping Channel hosts switch from selling overpriced jewelry to slinging overpriced pet clothing, while passing a bottle of ginger ale between the two of them. 

Jules it seemed, had a soda horde by his fridge.

"I would like a pet," announced Jules. He'd mostly been silent since his sitting. The after effects of puking up alcoholic cake for his species seemed to be getting very sleepy, and the fuzziness was kinda worrying. Worrying enough David was glad he'd stayed. Just in case.

David took a long swig of Canadian Dry, then passed the soda bottle back to Jules. "Can't, sorry, building rules."

"I know. I have asked." Jules' face was kind of red, but yeah, mostly he just looked sleepy. His eyelids drooped. Cute. "But if I were allowed, it would be pleasant to own several cats."

"A cat?" Shit, Jules was cute. That wasn't a new thought, but at this close a distance, after a night of drinking, it was a dangerous one. His vague gestures when he talked were cute. His weird intonation was cute. The way it all came out earnest instead of contrived was cute. "Would have thought you'd be a dog guy."

"Dogs appear to require more exercise than I could provide, unless I were allowed to let them roam the hallways."

"That would definitely not be allowed."

Jules made a sad noise. A sad cute noise. 

"Perhaps I would keep an ant farm." Was he brightening? It was hard to tell, his facial expressions were almost normal now, but still off sometimes. Which was cute. "They seem compact. It is possible to order everything online."

David turned his attention to the show. That was safe. Safe and--wow that dog looked unhappy in its little shoes. "Ugh, please no. I don't want to deal with complaints if bugs get loose in the building. We have enough trouble with that in the summer."

"You do not like bugs." Something about the way Jules said 'bugs' made David feel he was being quoted, also possibly judged. 

"Well," he hedged, "they get into everything. Trust me, when we hit summer you'll understand. You'll need a hazmat suit to leave the building for about a week unless you want to be sucked dry."

"Sucked dry?"

"You know, mosquitoes?"

"No."

"Mosquitoes eat people. Google them. They're horrible."

"I will." That was another weird thing, Jules had barely touched his phone. David had seen it since they'd sat down, it hadn't been lost somewhere on the way from the party, but David just wasn't looking at it. "But I would be keeping ants, not mosquitos."

"Hmm." David tried to sound non-committal.

"Ants are very interesting."

"Hmmm." He drew it out a bit.  
"Did you know Linepithema humile, commonly known as the Argentine Ant, have formed a super-colony across the world? Do you know if they reside in Mu?"

"I don't know. I mean, we have ants. They're ants?" 

A glance to the side showed Jules' was swaying. Oh god Jules was one hundred percent loopy, wasn't he? "Do you think they will be able to conquer the world?"

Why was that cute? "What?"

"The Linepithema humile super colony."

"I hope not?"

Jules suddenly looked so sad.

"Look, I can tell you like ants from your ceiling collage but they gotta leave some of the world for the rest of the animals up there."

Somehow he looked even sadder at this. "You may be right."

"Well. Maybe if you ask the King nicely he'll bend the rules. He likes to do that. Just don't let them get lose, and uh, we don't have strict animal import laws, since most stuff dies in the winter, so you could probably get whatever." David could look it up tomorrow. There were probably forms. He knew forms. "But if they get loose in the building you know, the cleaning guys'll be pissed."

"I would not want to upset them. I will be careful." Jules began nodding. He took a while to stop. "Ms. Balanovskaya is very nice."

David was just going to assume from context that was the janitor for this chunk of the building. "Are you sure you feel okay now?"

"I am fine." When Jules next passed the ginger ale back, it bumped David's cast. David bit his tongue but maybe he made a tiny squeak. A tiny one. Very tiny and manly. 

It'd been a while since his last pill, he was allowed.

"It's nothing!" he rushed out at Jules' widened eyes. "No worries. Really."

Jules clutched the plastic bottle. "I am sorry. If I had not been late you would not have been injured."

Late? How in the hell had Jules been late for anything? "I remember it as you saving my ass. Besides, this is nothing. The last time it broke was worse and it healed fine."

"The last time?"

David's breath hiccupped. He probably shouldn't have mentioned that. "No, it—"

"Your arm was previously broken as well? I did not know that."

"Well it's not—" 

"Was it a similar attack? I have been concerned about the building's security. There should be more guards at the entrances, especially when your King is in residence." Jules leaned forward, eyes still wide and concerned, mouth frowning.

"No this was like, a long time ago." Too long to get in to now. "Broke both actually." And a leg. "Really annoying. So don't worry. My bones are probably weak now. It wasn't your fault." There, that was the important thing. There was zero reason for Jules to be upset about it.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you injured?"

'That's not your business' died on David's tongue. It wasn't really, but he just couldn't manage to say it this time.

So what could he say? Lie? Say he fell down some stairs? He probably should have lied, but damn it was hard to make up a good story when Jules was leaning into his space looking like someone had just run over his future ant farm. "Just pissed off the wrong people. It happens."

Jules looked so earnest, so truthful when he replied. "That is not something that should happen!"

"It happens?" At least, it happened to people like David.

Jules pulled back, finally. "Earth is a cruel place."

It wasn't as if David could disagree, but the way Jules drooped, he really wanted to. But all he could do was lamely put a hand on the guy's shoulder in a way that was hopefully comforting. "Well, you know. There's okay stuff. It's just been a day." He checked his phone's clock. "Don't make important calls on the status of the world at three am, it never goes well."

Jules' face fell onto David's shoulder, his eyes closing. "Tell me good things."

"Uh." David's arm twinged but 'Mu has universal health care' was probably not the joke to make right now.

At this angle, Jules' hair fell into his face. His stupidly handsome face. It was so generically Hollywood pretty that it was kind of boring, like a hundred pictures of actors had been tossed into one of those neural network things.

Well, Jules was a robot or something. Maybe that was exactly how it'd happened.

And somehow, that thought made it cute.

Jules' started trying to cap the bottle, fumbling until David gave up and took it away. "I also do not like hands."

"Hands are okay," David managed, struggling with his own. 

"No. They are bad." And the possibility that Jules didn't always have hands was—

Cute, explained some things, but also sorta concerning? "You'll get used to them?"

"Perhaps you are right." Jules face turned, nose now against David's neck. 

The TV switched over to a new product. Something entirely frivolous about embossing cards. Pretty, but David sure as hell had no use for it. Who would he even send cards to? The foil was nice and shiny though. Whoa, that one had rainbows.

He only realized he hadn't given Jules any 'good things' at the same time he noticed that Jules had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

*

David had a crick in his neck. He was also on Jules' bed and under a pile of covers. Jules hadn't left a note but there was a text message on David's phone.

Jules: I apologise. I must go to work but when I attempted to wake you there was a confrontation.  
Jules: I believe you were still partially asleep.  
Jules: Is your arm well?

Then, timestamped several hours later, was a picture of a destroyed robot, as if to prove Jules was really gone for work and not just ditching him.

Jules: robot23.jpg  
Jules: Why does the number of these continue to increase?  
Jules: No one appears to know their origin.  
Jules: This is concerning.

David rolled towards the—still on, okay sure--television and wiggled out of the bed just far enough to change the channel to news. Then after consideration, bumped down the volume.

Of course someone had tried to crash the festivities that morning. And yes, it was the same robots that'd attacked the lobby, which meant dollars to donuts it was the same people behind both. 

Yay.

The wrecks from this would get hauled to the labs just like everything else did, and the creepy intelligence guys whose job it was to figure out who was trying to fuck with Mu this week would be doing their creepy intelligence shit.

David: Even if the suits know, they won't tell anyone.

There was no way in Icey Hell they weren’t already antsy about having a genuine space alien in the country. It was only due to him being the King's newest shiny toy that he wasn't getting interrogated daily and locked up in a cell. Or at least an ankle bracelet. Even David had spent his first year with one of those things.

No, instead David was supposed to be getting information out of him, a little annoying bit of his mind whispered.

Jules: You are likely correct.  
Jules: Good morning.

"Morning," David typed after a pause then slammed his head back into the pillows.

Half an hour or so later David roused enough to watch a rerun of the King's newest speech on Jules' TV. He wanted water. He was too lazy to get water. Everything hurt. His arm, his pride, but mostly his head.

Good thing he had the morning off, this was a hell of a hangover.

He wrapped another of the blankets around him. He could just go back to sleep, burrito bury himself in blankets, and wait until Jules wandered back from work, then ask him for water.

Or he could be a good adult, sneak back to his own room, have a shower, then get his ass to his job in time for the half-day.

"Ugh."

He rolled, several blankets hitting the ground with him. Goddamn these were comfy.

There were some more texts from Jules as David forced his way through getting to work. Pictures, a link to a video of an angry frog.

David: Frog giving you trouble?  
Jules: ???  
Jules: I do not understand?  
Jules: I apologise the video was cute I did not mean to imply anything about Frog.  
Jules: She is a valuable member of our workplace.

Then.

DA KING: Send me a selfie right now.

Uh oh.

David: Good morning, sir  
DA KING: I know you are in Mr. Gagarin's room.  
David: I'm in the hallway now

He sent a picture of the nearest window. Dark and grey and slightly condensing. He'd have to ask the building guys to check the weather seals. The picture could do double duty.

DA KING: I heard he got sick last night.  
David: Alcohol is bad for space aliens

The King of Mu sent him a thinking emoji.

DA KING: Be at my office at 5 and give a full report :)

Fuck.

*

David drained his coffee. Retrieved the envelope from the drawer. Took the ring out. Set it on the papers he should work on.

Stared at it for a while.

Went to get some more shitty coffee.

Drank the coffee.

The coffee was horrible. The ring gave no answers. David kind of wanted to throw up.

And more great news: he'd lied to Jules. Sure he hadn't meant to, but the fact of the matter was the guy's dreams of ant farms were going to be smashed. Of the list of species Jules had given him over text, all seemed to be a no-go for import. David'd been bugging a contact in customs since noon and it was possible he was starting to burn bridges

"wtf no " had been the answer on Linepithema humile.

"What if he was really careful?"

"NO."

Turned out the 'everything dies up here anyways' rhetoric mostly went for not-insects. 

Jules: This is a testament to their capability. I understand.  
Jules: sadlookinganimal241.jpg

Dear god why was that number so high?

Jules: I will bring beverages. Please choose one.

A photo of a chalkboard dinged into existence on David's phone. Ah, Jules' favourite place.

Jules: Unless you would like to join me.

It had been days of not going outside, and he knew, he really did, that he was being an idiot. If his fears were valid, then he needed to tell security. I they weren't then he was being a stupid coward. 

David: Grab me whatever that blue thing is and a muffin. Find a seat. Be there in 15.  
Jules: OK  
Jules: happymouseclimbsflower.jpg

David pocketed the ring and went out for lunch.

* 

Café Tomakomai was very busy. During peak times, such as the current hour, lines went out the door. Every table was in use. One frequently had to sit in the tunnel outside on the benches unless you were content to stand. Everyone talked at once, a constant murmur of conversation. It smelled of food, drink, wood, and people. Jules liked it very much.

When it was his turn to order he made sure to obtain David's 'blue thing' and the most nutritious looking muffin on offer. This one had multiple types of fruit, and chocolate. He waited for the food and beverages to be prepared, then attempted to find an area where two people could sit. He was unable to. Thus he waited outside.

He sent David a picture of a happy bat. 

It had been an unexpected but pleasant surprise when David had said he would meet Jules. Had the circumstances that kept him indoors expired? If so, the cause had not been the weather. Although the temperature had raised slightly, the wind had made up for any warmth, and today again the sky released snow. 

Why a city of such size was placed in such conditions so unaccommodating to human life, Jules had no idea. The tunnel system could only do so much. The JHQ did not even directly connect to the main thoroughfare, a poor design choice. It forced Jules to bring a bag to carry protective garments he would need only to cross that gap between door and door.

Jules found a suitable bench just as David arrived. 

"Thanks," David said as he took the blue beverage from Jules. Their hands touched. David had his gloves on still, but Jules could still feel warmth.

David's general behaviour was still incomprehensible, but based on the previous night Jules could hope that now their relationship was mended. Whatever had gone wrong before seemed to have been avoided this time. There were too many variables to know what exactly had made the difference. That Jules had left the room first? That David had volunteered to stay? That it had been Jules who had been at disadvantage due to his poisoning? That they had slept in a different room? 

Or, maybe Jules was unable to read humans at all and analysis was futile.

He would simply have to take what he could get. David, like all other humans Jules had met, would only let him comes so close to some invisible line Jules could not sense, and then no further. He had hoped David would be different. 

"Here is your muffin," said Jules.

"Thanks." David studied it a moment. "I'll pay next time."

That there would be a next time would have to be sufficient.

"You okay?" David said after starting to consume the muffin. "You still kinda look like shit."

"I am fine."

They sat. Consumed food. David talked more than Jules. Perhaps he was still ill. He knew he should be happy David had come to meet him, but he could not manage it.

He tested, allowing his posture to slacken, causing his shoulder to touch against David's. The point of contact was warm. David did not move away.

"This blue thing is just a London Fog with dye. Damn." David's gloved hand tapped David's knee. It was also the injured one. This time he spoke lower. "Really, you alright? Those bots didn't get any good hits in or anything, right?" 

Then a hole was punched through the ceiling. 

At least this situation was one Jules knew how to deal with.

First, Jules covered David to ensure he was not harmed by debris. Then, he scanned the area to ascertain if anyone else had been less fortunate. There appeared to be no casualties. Several store gates slammed shut as he looked about, and those people still in the tunnel were in the process of fleeing. 

Jules suspected they were used to such situations. The constant violence of this city was distressing.

More distressing, however, was the gasp of pain he heard from below him. "David?"

David cradled his cast tight against his body, leaving the sling slack. His face was greyish, pinched, and beginning to perspire, common signs of pain and illness. Jules had stopped the debris from hitting him, but Jules had not taken enough of the landing on himself. 

David grimaced, contorting his features. "Just cracked the cast. Not dead. Go punch stuff." The words were strained. He would again need medical attention. 

Jules resolved to end the fight quickly.

The cause of the disturbance was obvious as soon as the dust began to settle. A lone robot stood under the hole that now let in snow and horrible cold from the surface.

The first oddity of this situation was that the robot was alone. In the previous two attacks there had been a small swarm. Perhaps this was a left over from the morning's attack? However, the design was also slightly different. While it still had the stable design choice of four legs, the overall casing was more complicated, more mirroring a proper outer shell design than the clunky misshapen globular style the others had been built with. 

It was distressingly familiar in a way that felt almost physically painful. Was this what he had heard referred to as nostalgia? He did not like it.

This robot was also faster. Jules could barely dodge in time to keep what limbs he had. It was stronger. The tiles of the tunnel floor suffered for it.

It turned towards where David slumped against the wall, still clutching his cast. Unacceptable.

When it lunged, Jules grabbed its neck.

STOP

The impression hit Jules' inadequate senses with a force that blurred his vision.

STOP we are of the same side DO NOT ATTACK do not interfere do not move help DO NOT RESIST help do not attack HELP do not move do not attack do not interferer do not do not move do not

His internal lower organs twisted.

HELP

STOP

Jules attempted reply, only realising too late that he no longer had the capacity to respond any way other than verbally.

"Jules, watch out!"

Something collided with his face. A limb. The robot had punched him. It. No, it was not an it. Jules knew them. 

He knew them.

"Stop!"

Jules did not know who said that.

There was a loud noise.

The robot who Jules knew fell back.

David leaned against the wall. He held a gun. 

The robot who Jules knew who had been shot jumped up, and out of the hole.

Jules could not move his legs. He attempted to several times.

Then he was on the ground. Then David knelt beside him.

"Jesus!" David was touching him, shaking him with one arm. "Jules! Come on! Wake up!" He swore more.

Finally, Jules regained command of his own body. He stood. David clung to him and did as well.

Jules moved towards the hole in the ceiling. David yanked him back by the zipper of his coat. 

"Wait, hold up. The heating in here not going to survive much longer, and it's still below double digits up there," David rambled, hastily putting his own protective clothing back together. "Where's your hat and shit?"

"I must follow," said Jules. His hat, scarves, and mittens were in his bag, by the bench. David had a point. The cold could no longer be ignored. Jules would need his protective clothing in order to engage pursuit.

"We gotta—"

"I must follow," Jules repeated. He leaned against the wall to absorb what warmth he could as he struggled with his mitts. "Immediately."

"Nope." David was communicating with someone on his phone. "You're not following it. I'm calling this in, you're putting your winter gear on, then we go home." He glanced up. "The fuck was that anyway?"

Whether by 'that' David meant the robot that Jules knew, or how Jules had acted, Jules found he did not care. Only one action was important. "I cannot let them get away."

David's hand came up to press against Jules' chest, pushing him lightly against the wall. "Yeah, you can and you will. Because it's already gone. Because—"

Jules stepped forward. David grimaced. His face paled.

He had been restraining Jules with his injured arm.

"I may have possibly broken my arm again."

It occurred to Jules then that David may have used his injured arm on purpose. Such manipulation was distressingly common behaviour for humans. And it would work. If David was hurt, Jules would have to take him to the medical staff.

David's smile was not real. It twitched. "It's got to be long gone by now."

David was likely correct. Too much time had been taken to follow using sight and sound. The snow would have destroyed any scent trail Jules could still trace in this body.

He could not follow.

For the first time, Jules was truly angry at David.


	4. Chapter 4

David had broken his arm again. 

The tech looked at him. Looked at his x-rays. "You work in the office?"

"Yes," said David. 

He got a new cast. He got a new bottle of pills to add to his collection. 

Then he had about two minutes to get to the King's office.

It had sure been a day.

"I see that," the King said, leaning back in his chair. "These robots, they are becoming a problem, aren't they?"

"I guess." It wasn't exactly the first time some place had sent robot minions. They just kept getting cheaper to make. It was a boom industry, really.

"But our dear space friend certainly seems interested in them, doesn't he?"

Well, David still suspected Jules was a robot. Maybe they made him homesick.

"I wonder if you're not wrong."

"Please don't dissect him to find out." God, that was probably why he didn't want to go to the nurse's office. The creepy intelligence people would take the opportunity to cut him up like this was in a grainy video from the 90s narrated by Commander Riker.

"You worry too much, you know." There was the standard pot of tea on the King's left. Normally David would pour, but it seemed his Majesty was making allowances for his employee managing to break his arm twice within the month, as he made his own damn tea, then smiled. "But perhaps we should be concerned on this matter. Our Jules sound to have been acting rather strange."

"The robot did something to him." It had been freaky as fuck. Like a switch had been flicked, like he'd just blanked out, like—

David didn't really know like what but it was bad. The whole way back to JHQ Jules had seemed off. Like when he'd been drunk, he hadn't been on his phone, he'd barely talked and when he had, well he sure had sounded. Well. 

Daniel was used to people being angry at him and it had sure seemed like Jules was pissed. 

Not that the King would be happy to hear that.

"I am not," the King confirmed. "However, you were right to not let him run off. This incident is concerning on multiple levels, but if say, that robot were to capture Jules, who knows what could happen to the poor boy? Perhaps I will have to reign in his freedoms if our enemies are able to enthrall him so."

Fuck it. "Do you know what they are? The robots?"

"I do not. Yet. I have people on this." The King produced a twin of his cup from a drawer. Filled it. Pushed it towards David. "I'm not convinced that this attack is related to the latest batch we've had after Jules' arrival. This one not only looked different, but Jules had has no issue destroying them before."

"I mean, you know what I know." And what David knew was unfortunately jackshit.

"Indeed."

Okay, so David hadn't have much to tell, but they could at least be sure of one thing: Jules wasn't a threat. 

Jules was weird, really weird, but he was a nice guy. In the real way, not in the 'complains about girls on the internet' way. He was from a planet of probably robots who all always hung around each other, was allergic to alcohol, really liked animal pictures, was addicted to his phone, ate too much sugar, and was super lonely. Also he had amazing muscles, could pick David up like it was nothing, gave nice hugs, and his weird attempts at facial expressions were cute, but David was attempting to repress that. 

The King gave David a look.

The point was, Jules wasn't a threat to Earth. That was the important thing to focus on here. Not a danger. Nope. That's all.

"He's not," David repeated out loud, just to underline.

"David." The King took a long sip of his tea. "I don't mean this as quite the insult it may sound to be, but you do realise that you are historically a terrible judge of character?"

Hey now.

"And while I did request that you steer him away from my son's advances I did not quite intend for you to bed him either." After another sip he continued. "Twice."

Hey, those sleepovers had been entirely platonic even if—Oh fuck don't think about boners in front of the King of Mu, fuck.

"However." The King gave set down his empty cup. "I want more in depth information than 'his species is exceedingly clingy'. Luckily when it comes to gathering information, nothing is as fruitful as pillow talk. So I am officially condoning this seduction."

David ended up drinking none of his tea.

* 

David: Since our date was so rudely interrupted

'Date.' Whatever, the King wanted David to fucking honeypot. Everyone had gone mad. Insane. Nuts.

David: Let's hang out  
David: And by that I mean I will fall asleep on your floor watching the Shopping Channel again

There, that was right.

For half a minute David could see that Jules was typing. But no message came.

Goddamnit.

David scrolled back up their conversation, saved sadlookinganimal241.jpg and sent it back to him.

Jules still did not reply.

DA KING: He's trying to smooth talk his way into the labs and by smooth talk I mean the guards would like to shoot him.  
DA KING: map.jpg

Just fucking great.

He texted Jules again, making his way as quickly towards the right wing as he could manage with meds and sheer exhaustion starting to wear. 

He stopped at a corner. Braced against the wall. 

Still no answer.

Fuck it. He called Jules. Ring ring motherfucker.

After a few moments, Jules picked up. "Hello?" he in a way that suggested no one had actually done anything other than text him before.

"David here."Daivd said as if call display didn't exist. "Finally got released. Bad news: the cast you signed was a casualty. Worse news: I feel like shit. Sleepover: yes or no?"

There was a long pause. Long enough David wondered if this wouldn't work. 

He heard someone yell at Jules in the background.

"You okay over there?" asked David.

"I am attempting to gather information on the robots," Jules answered.

"Cool. Do that tomorrow morning when the techs don't all want to go home."

His meds were somewhere in his pockets. He just had to find the right one. His fingers hit a cylinder of metal he'd been happy to forget.

"Jules." His voice maybe came out a little strained. "Whatever is going on, deal with it in the morning. Don't get your ass arrested. You want a request for information form? I can get you that. We'll pick up a stack on the way to your apartment."

"You sound ill."

"I am very damn ill." David slumped harder against the wall. Sleeping in the hallway was becoming an attractive option.

He heard a little more shouting over the phone. Then, finally. "I will meet you at your office."

"Okay. See you there." Great. Now David just had to drag his ass to a different wing. It was going to be a long night.

*

Jules had been waiting many minutes at the locked door to the archival office block when David finally arrived. The anger had not left him from the afternoon. It was an almost physical burning inside his abdomen now. Drinking water did not help. He did not know what else he could do other than eliminate the cause of his unhappiness. But he couldn't.

He needed to find his comrade. To save them from whatever had been done to them. Now.

He could not. So many things, so many people, put themselves in his way. And this route that David had given him was the same. Filling a form, submitting it, waiting, more waiting. No action.

He attempted to turn the doorknob once more, even though he knew it would not turn. His hand shook as he let go.

Frog messaged him on telegram. Jules did not respond. He had not since she had declined to help him enter the labs. Pink Falcon posted an announcement on her feed that she would be attending a premiere of a film in Los Angles, United States of America. Falcon X and Little Pink commented. Jules did not. 

He swiped through his contacts on LINE. The Prince of Mu had added himself through QR code not long after their first meeting. It was possible that if Jules acquiesced to his interests he could give Jules access to areas of the building others could not.

There was noise. David shambled into the dark hallway, then flicked on the lights. "Don't stare at the phone in the dark. It'll kill your eyes." Most of the man's weight was on the wall. "Well, probably."

David looked ill. Very ill. His normally pale skin had managed to become paler, and tinged grey. The darkness under his eyes had grown deeper. His breathing was sharp, yet shallow. He limped. 

Jules stomach, full of imaginary acid, now felt as if it were in an elevator that had stopped too suddenly.

"Please sit," Jules said. There were chairs for visitors to wait in, constructed of bright orange vinyl and fake wood stickers over wood core. Jules had used them many times. "If you give me the key, then I will find the papers myself."

David pushed himself off the wall then walked to the locked door. "Like Hell, you'll either never find the right forms or destroy the filing system." A beep of the electronic key and the door clicked open. "Stand still for a bit. I gotta stop the auto-alarm."

When David tripped on the carpeting on his way back, Jules caught his arm. The uninjured arm.

"I apologise," Jules said. "You should be resting, not aiding me."

Contrary to Jules expectations, David leaned into him. "It's fine. This sort of thing is actually my job."

David was faster than Jules had worried in finding the correct forms. The copy machine was less efficient. David hit it several times.

The suggestion was made by David to fill the forms out at Jules' room. Jules would then submit them at the beginning of work hours the next morning.

Too slow, but the only option Jules had. Unless. Possibly. "If we were to ask your King directly for clearance—"

David cut Jules off. "We are going to go to your apartment, put the TV on, have a shower, then sleep. On the way we can even hold hands."

While the first section of that list did make sense, that last action was an odd addition until Jules followed David's line of sight to his own hands. They were still shaking. He had not even noticed. He tried to force them still. "I appreciate that you are attempting to make me feel better, but I cannot." 

"I know," said David, then began making his way towards the hallway. He leaned on many pieces of furniture along the way.

Jules attempted a sigh. Long breath in. Long breath out. His eyes closed. He dropped his posture. Sighing he found, did not actually help him feel better about defeat. For that was what this was, even if it were only temporary.

David locked up. Clicked the light off. "It's a longshot, but maybe you'll feel less shit in the morning."

"I do not see how." 

David only shrugged and, as he had previously offered, took Jules' hand. 

Perhaps David had a point. If Jules faced the robot who he knew in such a condition, what help would he really be?

None, and that was also unacceptable. He would need to fix himself.

"Do you require anything from your own rooms?" Jules asked when they were in the first elevator.

"I could pass out anywhere," David replied, and he did not seem to be lying.

Jules gripped the hand in his tighter. It was calming in a way, to focus on the sensation of David's hand in his. Warmth, pressure. The slightest ebb and flow of the pulse.

David was not in his way. David was helping him. Not everything was unacceptable. 

Jules could not help one of his cohort, but that did not excuse neglecting his newfound ally to the point they might collapse in the hallway. Jules had been remiss. "I apologise for keeping you from rest."

David shook his head. "It's fine." 

Jules suspected he was lying, as humans tended to do when they said those words. Jules had also picked up the habit. Before he had arrive at Earth, there had been no reason to lie about anything. Although he had known it would be necessary for his mission, in practice—

Everything was more difficult than it was supposed to have been, for one reason: he was alone in it.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"You'll stay until morning?" 

"Yes." There was an odd cadence to this repetition but Jules could not decipher what it meant.

The apartment was reached with little incident. Frustration still ate through Jules' body as if it were a physical parasite, but he would have to realign his concerns, at least for the night. David's weight grew heavier, and by the end Jules almost carried him. In his fervour to find his comrade, Jules had neglected his current ally, who now suffered for it.

This thought only increased his internal, possibly imagined, pain.

Jules paused as they entered his room, their hands still linked but their arms spread as David stumbled on. "You will not have clothes for tomorrow, or to sleep in. Would you like to borrow mine?"

David hesitated, glancing at Jules' closet. "Okay, but if you try to take pictures I'm gone."

"I did not take pictures last time, even-though you said it would last longer."

David's response, as far as Jules could ascertain, not composed of actual words. He then let go of Jules and dropped to the bed. 

"Are you--?"

"Sleep now."

David would need a shower, but Jules did as well. There wold be no harm in letting David rest while Jules went first. Perhaps the water would stop his shaking. David had not commented, but surely he had noticed. 

The water did not help.

He dried, dressed. He braced his hands against the condensation that collected on the bathroom door. When he pressed, they had to remain still.

David had not moved from his position on the bed. Possibly, it was best to leave him, let him recover through sleep. But he had not showered yet. Being clean before entering bed was important. Among everything Jules had no control over, that one problem grabbed hold of him. Standards had to be kept. If Jules could not manage such basics how could he attempt anything else?

Gently, he touched David's uninjured arm. David murmured, but did not stir further.

The room was quiet. Jules had not thought to turn the television on when they had entered. He had been too distracted. He did now. The Shopping Channel filled the quiet but it did not help as it normally did.

"David," Jules said. "You need to shower before sleeping. I have a bag to cover your cast."

"Meh," David mumbled. "Lemme sleep."

"Please," Jules said. "At least change your clothing. You should not sleep in your suit."

David batted him off.

"Please," Jules said.

David remained uncompliant. He was likely still asleep. Jules wanted to shake him. That was unwise. David had broken his arm only a few hours ago. Jules's own hands were still shaking. He needed to stop. 

He needed to.

"David, please." He shoved David onto his side.

"Ow." David said the word flat. "Fine. God. Gimme a minute." 

David did not move. 

He did not understand. Jules had to make him understand. If there was at least one other being that understood, maybe it would not hurt so much. "It is important--"

To be clean before sleeping. To not maintain proper hygiene protocol was unacceptable. To not do ones basic duty was unacceptable. To stand here, not doing anything to find his other comrades was---

Everything was wrong and he could not even communicate the importance of the most basic standards.

"I cannot do this," he said, except he did not. His throat did not open as it should. The air that should have been released trapped inside his neck, causing sharp pain.

At this a chain reaction spread across his body. His skin felt hot, his eyes burned, the area above his nose congested and radiated an ache across his face.

"I cannot," he repeated, because possibly David had not heard him that first time and no malfunctioning throat would stop him from declaring the truth now, to make David understand. "Everything is wrong."

David looked at him now, wide eyes, frozen but awake. Perhaps he was scared. This was also wrong, but Jules did not know what to do. He could not do anything.

Jules clenched his hands in the pillows around David's head in an attempt to stop the shaking. But all of him was shaking now. "It should not be like this. I should not be alone."

It should not have been an 'I.' He should not have to be an 'I.' He was meant to be a 'we.' Not this. He had been made for a mission to Earth, to be changed, to face obstacles, but not this. How was he supposed to work correctly like this? He couldn't!

David began swearing. 

"I apologise," Jules started, before being tugged downward as David pulled himself up to meet halfway. He was hugged.

"Hey, it's okay." David's cast dug into Jules' stomach. His weight precariously hung on Jules' shoulders. He spoke into Jules' hair more than his ear. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'll have a fucking shower. It's okay."

"No." Now that David was holding him the idea of him stopping was unacceptable. Jules buried his own face as much into David's neck as he could, against the coolness of David's skin. Why was his face so hot? Why did his face hurt so much? His eyes watered but there was nothing in them to cause it. "Stay here."

David's reply was quick. Sharp. Higher in tone than normal "Okay." 

He was still alarmed. Jules was scaring him. This was wrong.

"Please."

"Okay, I won't go anywhere, just—one second here." David shuffled himself in such a way as to take his weight from Jules. "There. Okay?"

"No."

David's arm moved. His hand found Jules and covered it. The shaking was forced to lessen under his grip.

David did not have the capacity to fix what was wrong with Jules. He needed to find the others for that. However, David was trying. Jules was not alone. There was someone right there, even if they could not understand.

"Thank you." He was not alone. David was there. David had already helped him in his search. He had promised to continue to do so. Nothing was okay. But there was David. That was almost okay.

"Hey, it..." David trailed off. He sighed. Perhaps the action helped him more than it did Jules. "Don't worry. I'll look after ya."

That was almost good.

"Okay," Jules said.

"Okay," David confirmed.

They sat for a reasonably long amount of time. Slowly, Jules' shaking lessened until it almost stopped.

Jules sneezed into David's hair. 

David hummed. "Maybe I should have a shower after all."

*

David showered as fast as possible. He ate the fruit salad Jules presented to him at the door. He wrapped up in a dozen blankets and a half dressed space alien.

He wrote and erased a text message to the King that said 'I can't do this' about five times.

At some point Jules went still, but he was just asleep. He wasn't dead or anything.

David stared at his phone. Then the ceiling. Then he shifted a little to watch the TV. They were selling ugly leggings now.

Jules pulled at him in his sleep, tugging him back.

David was in so much trouble. There was no way he wasn't going to fuck this up, fuck Jules up.

For fucks sake his most successful relationship had started with the guy slamming him against a wall. While David was pretty sure Jules could physically manage that—which was not what David needed to be imagining while the guy was half on top of him.

There was part of the problem. It wasn't like David didn't want to bang. Part of him really, really did, but he had been supressing that. He had worked so hard to supress that.

But he had some fucking morals. Really he did.

Jules needed help and that help was totally not a fuck. Especially not with David of all people.

'Don't worry. I'll look after ya.'

Stealing lines from murderous exes. David was already on a roll.

Oh, the TV was selling ugly shirts now.

At some point, exhaustion took him out. 

When he woke the situation was much worse.

Jules was already awake, and staring at him. 

David meanwhile, had about the same reaction to waking up covered in Jules as he had the first time. Except now he really couldn't justify running out the door and not responding to texts for a week.

"Good morning," said Jules. He at least looked less like he was about to burst into tears than the previous night. "I awoke earlier and filled out a draft version the forms. Could you check them for me?"

"Okay," David replied, processing slowly that meant Jules had gotten up, made himself use a pen, then decided to get back into bed and snuggle David.

Jules pressed right up against David's front. There was no way he didn't feel that. 

"I'll just have a quick shower then grab a clean suit from my apartment," David managed. Wait, shit, they needed food. The office had shitty coffee but no food. What time was it? Was the one pizza place that'd deliver into JHQ open yet? Normally David would send Jules to grab something but—

Jules frowned.

"You'll be with me. We'll uh, grab food later."

"I can come with you?"

"Yeah." After last night, no way David was letting Jules out of his sight. Even with sleep to gloss that panic over, that had been fucking terrifying. 

Unfortunately it seemed Jules took David's 'yeah' to mean he could come with David to the shower.

"No, wait, just, wait here."

"But you said—"

Jules would be fine for five minutes with a door slammed in his face. Probably.

David rushed through his shower while trying to be very quiet and not think about what if Jules had joined him. The space alien was just clingy. That didn't mean David should take advantage of it.

Except the King of the damn country had ordered him too. Well, maybe he'd been joking. Their monarch had a strange sense of humour, as evidence by keeping David round in the first place. As long as David got Jules comfortable enough to blab enough secrets about space aliens then David didn't really have to bang an alien.

Probably.

The only time Jules had mentioned banging, he hadn't been too enthusiastic. Although, that had been about Prince Idiot. There'd been that weird kiss talk but that had been about language or something. 

Did space robots even fuck? For crying out loud did Jules even have a dick? Did it work? What was gonna come outta there? Could robots carry space STDs? 

Damnit, David was going to have to go buy condoms for the first time in over a decade. The price had probably gone up. 

Fucking inflation.

It was, in the end a very unsatisfying shower wank.

More fruit salad, hand holding on the way to David's apartment, hurried changing, hand holding, terrible coffee, hand holding.

Some form editing, submitting, and then.

Well, what to do with Jules for the rest of the day unless he was called out for an emergency? David strongly suspected he was getting put on the no go list until this mystery was solved. When not busy, the talent tended to just loiter around the JHQ like bored teens in a mall. Most weeks, Frog was the only one who actually earned her pay. Mu did have actual police after all. Really they did, and unless there was some over the top robot attack—

Then there was nothing to do.

Because Jules was already pacing David's office.

He couldn't send him for food. He couldn't leave him alone. 

But, David had actual work.

There was one option. Dangerous. Possibly disastrous.

He could let Jules loose in the archives.

There was enough information in there on older robot attacks to fill days of reading. But on the other hand, it could cause weeks of re-filing.

Jules was still pacing. He didn't seem to be shaking.

Fuck it.

It was only after he closed the door behind Jules, hoping this wasn't a terrible mistake, that he noticed he'd missed about a bajillion texts.

Most were unimportant or easy enough to reply to on his way back to his office.

There was one odd one.

The Frog: take this  
The Frog: coupon.jpg

It appeared to be a scannable QR code.

David: What is it?  
The Frog: jules is not allowed out alone  
The Frog: take him

What?

David checked his messages again. Oh, okay yeah there was a note sent to the active talent spreadsheet thing (it had a real name, but David didn't care. He was also probably not supposed to have access to it, but the King didn't care) that Jules was off-duty and confined to the building until further notice due to 'injury.'

Well either through official announcements or gossip, information was spreading fast.

David: OK, what is it?  
The Frog: Free entry  
The Frog: Catfe  
David: WTF is catfe

*

The room was a long corridor that wrapped around the backs of several offices, each side lined with shelves, the shelves filled with files. The basic numerical system took little time to understand, especially with David's list of codes to use in locating the robot related sections. Jules found the relevant works then piled them on the table. It was of weak construction but held the mass well enough.

The chair was similarly of poor make. Odd, considering the chairs and desks Jules had seen in the offices had been much more sturdy, and comfortable.

Then he read.

This took much time.

David had said he wasn't allowed to take photos with his phone, but neither had he confiscated it. Jules instead only used it to confirm information with other sources online.

After many papers that were otherwise interesting but not relevant to his search, David interrupted to announce the arrival of delivery pizza. Which Jules was not allowed to consume inside the file room. Nor was he allowed to bring any of the files with him to David's office. Still, David had accessed some of the digitalized reports on his work computer which Jules was allowed to peruse if he only used the hand that did not hold pizza.

"My keyboard looks like hell already, okay?"

David was being as helpful as he could. Now, with some path to follow, even if it was weak, and food and sleep inside him, it was slightly easier to see that, and let it bandage his impatience and need. Jules could not save the robot he knew alone, but he had made allies here. Even if they were not as forthcoming as he desired, they could help. 

It would have to be enough. There was nothing else. So he made sure to repeatedly remind himself of this.

Robot attacks were, as Jules had previously feared, alarmingly common. That there had been two to three in the past three months was not a noticeable increase. 

Most seemed to come from a handful of manufacturers in China, who were only legally allowed to sell them for non-violent services. This law did not seem to be well enforced. There was much information on various governments purchasing them in bulk for their militaries. This was illegal in the view of the government of Mu and an area of high contention between several nations. Earth was as always a very fractured place. 

However, what physical descriptions that were not blacked out with sharpie, which Jules could still smell on the most recent papers, or digitally on the computer, seemed to differ from the ones Jules had seen himself. 

Generally they were based off of the humanoid bipedal form, as precarious as it was, or wheeled. Some had been built with four legs, based off the more stable method that most non-insects seemed to prefer. However none of those designs had an upper body supporting arms. 

They were flat. 

The configuration of limbs Jules had assumed to be normal due to his familiarity with it was actually a sign of something new, something he should have paid closer attention to.

He had been stupid, making assumptions—

"Hey," David tapped Jules' arm with his cellphone. "How the hell do you scan a QR code if it's already on your phone?"

"I could scan the code with my own phone," said Jules.

"Your froggy friend sent it," explained David when the image popped up. It appeared to be a dining establishment. "We could go after work or—"

"—I have many files to complete," interrupted Jules. At David's frown he continued. "I apologise. May we go tomorrow?"

David shrugged. "Sure, whatever. You can't take that shit out of the filing room though, remember? And I'm not allowed to access this stuff on my phone so…"

The digital files sadly did not give him any more relevant information. He finished his portion of the pizza. Then after David made him wash his hands in the nearby washroom, Jules returned to the filing room.

There were four remaining hours until David's regular shift would end, although it was not unusual for him to stay late. However, Jules had been wrong earlier. He did not need any extra time, he finished the remaining files too quickly, and once more, he sat with no clear idea of how to proceed. He knew now only that he required more information on the recent robots.

Jules stared at the files he had read. The unease was returning. He pressed his hands flat against the vinyl of the tabletop.

Perhaps there were other files here he could use. He scanned the wall from his seat. Nothing seemed relevant.

David's attempt to help had led to nothing.

His—

David had tried. He would likely continue to do so.

David…

Before, Jules had a plan. He would integrate himself into this new world as much as he could. He would try to establish some sort of bond that could fill the void of being alone. David had seemed the best prospect. He was kind to Jules. He was otherwise unattached. Jules had thought David was attracted to him. Yet there had been no action, and then the retreat after the night of David's injury—

It seemed as if Jules was sexually attractive, but otherwise unacceptable. 

He did at the moment feel very unacceptable.

The only point of reference Jules had found to compare himself too was—

'Alberto Montebello aka Vulcan'

A thick binder, the edged cracking, near the far corner, labelled neatly in black marker, likely a sharpie. 

Jules had some time before David would come for him.

He rose, then took the binder from the shelf.

Much of the papers were dated over ten years ago, when Vulcan's career was still active. Later dated were the results of attempts to confirm his deceased status. There was a particularly thick section near the middle relating to the events of the Downtown Incident eleven years ago. Unfortunately, many lines were drawn on in a thick sharpie that soaked through to the pages behind it.

Jules skimmed through, looking for any information that related to David. Near the beginning of the investigation into the event he appeared to have been of much interest, as he was the closest known associate of the perpetrator. Although here too much was covered by sharpie, some sections with apparent force.

Alberto Montebello was suspected of illegally immigrating to Mu via the United States of America somewhere between twenty to twenty five years ago. His place of origin was suspected of being Italy, but this was conjecture based on incomplete birth records and a supposition of his age. The Italian Government was noted as neither being particularly interested in aiding Mu's investigation, nor any possible attempts at deportation.

There was quite a large section on the man's powers. They sounded quite destructive if not inconvenient.

Perhaps Jules would read it later. The ability for humans to mutate themselves and the concentration of such happenings in the continent of Mu was indeed fascinating, and if Jules had been left to his original mission would certainly have been an intended field of research.

For now he skipped ahead, searching for what he needed. What had drawn David to this apparently violent and chronically troublemaking man?

Several short psychological profiles were included but these were also heavily censored, to the point that the paper had become rather damaged. An entire section on his known relationships was now a large black box. 

This rampant defiling of important documents was alarming.

There was a physical description, and photos. These Jules had already seen. But now he was more familiar with expressions he could better catalog the components of the man's facial placement. A tight smile with one side higher than the other, but not due to the burn damage, normally meaning a false one. Equally narrowed eyes, normally meaning suspicion. Yet together the meaning became different, especially with the slightly upwards tilt of the head. The overall outcome was, if Jules calculated correctly, self satisfaction, confidence, arrogance, a self perception of superiority: smug. 

Was this inner confidence what had attracted David? It was certainly a quality Jules lacked. However, it was also not one he had ever aspired to. The very concept of wanting to be above those around you was anathema to his own society. To think of obtaining the quality was unpleasant to him. But—

He thought of Pink Falcon, whose confidence in her persona was her main method of income. Of the King of Mu whose entire line appeared to rule based on proclaiming their superiority over others, and who had several celebrations his own glorification.

Human society was so opposite to his own, that it made a strange sort of sense. Would it not be symmetrical for the question he did not understand to have an answer he did not understand?

Jules was not as far into the binder as he would have liked to have been—much time had been taken attempting to read behind the blackened words—when his phone beeped, indicating the normal end of the work day, which meant David would soon collect him.

David had told him, sternly, not to put any of the files back himself, having no confidence in his ability to do so.

Perhaps this lack of confidence was an example of how he judged Jules an unsuitable romantic or sexual partner? Briefly, Jules contemplated putting the files back anyways. Surely he would be able to do so. He had a very good memory. The numerical system was not as complicated as David had warned.

But no, while it would perhaps show confidence, it would be too impolite.

Perhaps Vulcan had been a rude man, but Jules could not imagine David being happy about anyone ignoring his directions so directly.

However.

Jules: I am finished reading. I will put the files back now.  
David: NO

He was halfway to the shelf with the Vulcan folder in his hand when David slammed open the door.

*

Jules had been promptly ejected from the office. David was angry at him. Again. At least this time he knew exactly why.

A carpet cleaning robot someone had taped a piece of paper with a crude drawing of a face to rolled close, then bumped into Jules' shoe. He reached down, turned it the other way, then let it go. It scuttled off, bumping into several more pieces of furniture before leaving Jules' sight down the hall.

Jules sat alone for several minutes before hearing the sound of shoes on the linoleum tiles.

"And what are you doing here all alone, my little cosmonaut?" said Prince Martis Caelestis the 3rd.

Jules, who did not consider himself little at all replied: "I am waiting for David." There was no reason to go into detail.

However.

The Prince was, technically, the second highest power in the country. 

"Do you have access to the laboratories?" asked Jules. "I would like to enter them but have been disallowed access."

"Maybe." The Prince drew out the word as he moved closer. The Prince touched Jules' chin, applying pressure so as to guide his face more upwards. "That's more my father's playground, but I could get you into the labs regardless of what dear old dad says, if you'd tell me why you want it so bad."

"I wish to study the remains of the robot attackers that have been collected since the start of this year," said Jules immediately.

"Yes." The pressure against his submaxillary triangle increased. "But why do you want to do that?"

"The design is familiar to me." He had previously said as much to Frog in his texts. That information was safe.

"Familiar? Oh! I see, I see. Well, I can't do much based on that, but perhaps if you tell me a in confidence over, say, dinner at--"

"But it is impossible to tell you anything in complete confidence," said Jules. He had interrupted, which was rude, he knew that, but the Prince was wasting time with such a proposal. "Your father has telepathic abilities."

The Prince's hand jerked back. "Yes, unfortunate, that. Well, simply all the more reason to avoid him." 

"I would simply like to see the robots for my research," continued Jules, which was not a complete lie. He attempted to look around the Prince's legs to where the office doors were. 

"I see." The Prince placed his hands on his hips, blocking Jules' view. "Wants to find out if the robots here on Earth compare to your own worlds'?"

The Prince, among others, had implied it so many times that Jules could recognise when it was once again occurring. "I am not a robot."

"I know one way for me to confirm that." The Prince leaned in. "Perhaps we can come to a nice mutually beneficial arrangement?"

Jules did not move, although he wished to. "I have signed an agreement with the King that I do not have to undergo an in-depth physical exam unless I present myself to the staff for treatment of an injury."

The Prince hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his black suit pants. "That's not quite what I meant."

The only argument Jules could put forth against agreeing were those of foreign cultural mores. The Prince was still married. Also, Jules suspected it would only further damage his chances of obtaining David's interest.

However.

Nothing he did seem to attract David's interest, and the Prince had many affairs. Such consequences that could result weighed lightly when placed against the need to save his comrade. It was, perhaps, a futile path as reading the files had been, but it was once again the only path Jules could surmise.

"Will you allow me access to the labs if I disagree?"

"Jules," the Prince frowned, and drew out his name, "how insulting, I know you are new to our customs but such accusations are beyond the pale."

"Then could we go now?"

The Prince was still frowning, perhaps Jules had truly upset him too much. "Keen to abandon you little paper pusher pal now you have a lead, aren't you?" 

"I—" Jules had been. The realisation was unpleasant. "I will text him. Perhaps he may come with us?"

The frown deepened, quickly, but only for a moment, then turned itself backwards into a smile. "I'm not one for threesomes. Let's roll out, my little bot."

*

David's arm itched under his cast. The 'new' program they had to do their year-end budget on was the same as the last except now nothing worked. Hours of emails back and forth with the tech guys yielded nothing. Turning it on and off yielded nothing.

And Jules had been reading up on his old boyfriend.

One of these problems could be solved with a pencil.

Ugh, putting shit back with one arm was even more annoying than putting shit back with two. Maybe he should have let Jules help. The guy was smart, he could learn. Probably. David could watch to make sure.

Fine. Next time he'd let Jules do it. Under supervision. 

Maybe he could buy dinner tonight. Then find a way to grill Jules not only on space alien shit but why he was looking up dead people. Great. Fun. 

David hit up his desk for a quick shot of courage. A terrible mistake. Spotted by one of the many co-workers who couldn't figure out excel spreadsheets yet still held on to their jobs, he was forcibly cornered into fixing stupid mistakes at a computer that had a cartoon booby mousepad. And people wondered why David drank on the job.

Finally he extracted himself.

The hall however, was empty but for a lost cleaning robot that kept bumping its head into a corner. David pushed it around with his foot then checked his phone.

Jules: I apologise. Your Prince has said he will allow me access to where the remains of the robots are under study. 

Oh no.

Jules: There seems to be an issue with his access level.  
Jules: We are inside now.  
Jules: Someone is yelling but I have found some of the remains from a previous attack on the lobby.  
Jules: Seen up close and now with better knowledge of general makes used for destructive purposes, it is simple to conclude that these are normal YKT-63 manufactured by Tariki Entities. They have been modified, most likely by a third party after purchase. While the YKT-63 model is normally quadrupedal, an additional  
Jules: A lady wants to confiscate my phone. I cannot take pictures.  
Jules: I am being removed from the laboratory.  
Jules: The Prince of Mu is gone.  
Jules: Please help.

How. How had all this managed to happen in the fifteen minutes Jules had been left alone? No, wait. David glanced to the lower corner of his phone. Okay, forty something minutes. 

Wait, more messages chirped into his inbox.

DA KING: Good evening, David.  
DA KING: Getting some interesting updates regarding my son and your space buddy.

Fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

When David arrived at the gaggle of chairs and vending machines that made up the lab lobby Jules was sitting in a chair, distraught.

"They have confiscated my phone, David."

Shit. Okay. "Just—" David glanced to the desk where a very stern and smug looking Gerald Sign stood, Jules'phone in an open Tupperware case in front of him. Blue. Like those ones your shoes went in at airports. "Go wait at your place, maybe they'll be less standoffish if you're safely out of sight."

"I will." God, Jules looked almost as glum as he had the previous night. At least he wasn't jittering this time. "I apologise for causing you trouble."

"No, it's no problem, grab me something from a vending machine on the way maybe. This blocks' got one with sandwiches somewhere." He waved vaguely down the hall. "Get me a ham something if you can."

With Jules safely away from the fight, David took a breath and went to the desk. Looked like they'd transferred Gerald to somewhere he could make even more trouble. Just fucking great.

David tried apologising. "He's very sorry."

David tried explaining. "Look, he didn't mean anything by it. He was under the mistaken impression it was okay."

Bargaining. "You can delete whatever off the phone and he'll never do it again."

Diplomacy. "I promise he's not a spy from Russia."

"I know he's not," the jerk at the desk said. "He's a space alien and he should be on the tables back there with the rest of them."

David had to take a moment at that one.

Okay.

"First of all." What the fuck had he just said there were dead aliens in the labs? "What the fuck."

"Second." What the fuck. No. "Jules isn't a security risk. His phone is probably 90% cat memes. You don't need that."

"You don't have the authority to tell me what to do."

"Dollars to donuts we're both going to be in deep shit if Jules, who was only in there because the Prince said he could, doesn't get his emotional support phone back." David pointed at the very obvious security camera that stuck out from the ceiling over their head. "If you know as much as you act like you do, then you know that space alien is a favourite of the King, and the King fucking loves to meddle."

The asshole grimaced. Good. 

He crossed his armed and leaned back from the desk. Bad. Fuck. 

"You're the form man, aren't you? I'm sure there is a form to handle this request."

"Oh come on!" David smacked the desk. With the wrong arm. Fuck. Now it was his turn to grimace. "You really want to do it this way?"

The motherfucker nodded.

"Okay." David turned away from the desk. "Okay."

He swivelled. Grabbed the phone.

And fucking booted it down the hall.

*

David was having difficulty breathing when he arrived at Jules' door, but he was, oddly, smiling.

"I got it," David said, gasping for air as he braced his uninjured arm against his bent knee. His hair hung over his forehead in damp curls which bounced with each breath. "Fucker couldn't jump the desk fast enough."

Jules reached forwards, hoping to take David's weight. "David, are you--?"

"I might die." His voice was harsh, breathy and cracking at the end in a way similar to laughter. "But I got the damn phone."

The phone? David was in this state because--? "Please do not die."

David pushed past him into the room, then dropped onto the bed. 

"Oh god I'm getting old." He wiggled for a moment, struggling with his pockets. Then he held Jules' phone, easily identifiable by the flashes of pastel goniochromism in the light. "Here."

A strong pressure built in Jules' chest, only increasing, spreading to his face, as he took his precious phone from David's hand. "Thank you."

"No problem." David's words were muffled by the pillow in his face. 

A quick skim affirmed that nothing obvious had been done to the device. Jules would investigate in depth later but for now—

He knelt beside David's head. "David. I am very grateful."

David made a muffled noise not unlike one of pain.

He did not appear injured, only exhausted. After a moment's watch Jules went to collect a glass of water from the washroom. 

He again knelt and offered the cup to David. "Please drink this. I have also stored the sandwiches in the fridge. I obtained ham." 

David rolled into a sit then took the cup. "Thanks." He drank, then watched as Jules examined his phone. "They didn't mess it up, did they?"

"No, I do not think so." He had not taken any pictures of the interior of the laboratory. Now, angry enough with his treatment to not care for politeness, he regretted that. Even if they had deleted them he could have simply sent copies immediately upon taking them to David and others. The guards would take his phone after he had already been inside, but were not cautious enough to block phone signals from exiting the rooms. They were both rude and ineffective.

"Good okay." David set the empty glass down onto the floor. His breathing seemed to be almost normal.

"Thank you," Jules said again, feeling the sudden urge to re-state the fact.

"Jules, it's okay just—" David cut himself off and all the signs of cheer left his face, leaving only the exhaustion. "Promise you won't go near the labs again."

"But I only saw a small amount of—"

"I'm serious," David cut in. "Those guys are dangerous."

"But David," Jules replied, "there is important information—"

"Look, I'll go back. I'll talk to people. But you don't. You stay the hell away from there and anyone who works around there. Actually I should probably…. Fuck." David once again went through his pockets until he produced his own phone. Then he stared at it for a moment. "That's a lot of messages."

Jules placed the cup against the wall beside his phone. He knelt. He pulled David forward by the lapels of his coat, then embraced him. "Thank you for everything you have done. Please do not get in trouble for my actions."

David's neck was flushed, and hot where Jules' nose touched it. He heard David's voice hum through the skin. "I'm not. Stay away from there."

"But I need to find the others."

"Yeah, I know." The humming was calming. "The robots are like, your kinda robots or something, yes?"

"I am not—" What point was there in hiding such facts from David at this point? David had done nothing but help him find the truth, Jules could give him the truth in exchange. "Yes. I am not a robot. It is much more complicated than that, but yes."

"Okay that's great." The muscles of David's neck twitched with breathing. "Yeah, okay."

Perhaps Jules should have moved away then, but he did not want to, so he did not. "Is that bad?"

David made a strangled noise.

Perhaps he had not be precise enough. "Is me being sort of a robot bad?"

"No, no that's fine. I don't care about that. I figured that." He breathed deeply again, then pushed Jules back. "Okay. I should shower. You hate when I'm gross on the bed, yeah?"

He had not thought to mind it until David had mentioned. "Oh, I suppose. Thank you."

"And we aren't leaving this room separately, okay?" David said this in such a ways as to indicate it was not really a question.

Jules felt his face frown involuntarily. He corrected it into neutrality. Hopefully something serious looking, perhaps stern. "The King of Mu has guaranteed my safety."

"Yeah, he has, but—" David began the complex maneuvering required to removed his jacket over a cast. "You got a plastic bag anywhere for my arm?"

Jules did of course. He has begun collecting them once David had first been injured. They had their own box.

"Thanks," David said when Jules duly handed him one. "Even with the King on your side, you can't be too careful, okay? Sometimes people decide they know better than their own boss." 

Then David deposited his firearm on Jules' bed in an alarmingly careless manner before stumbling into the washroom.

Jules placed the weapon onto the top of his sturdiest box then mused on the complexities of human hierarchies as he checked through his phone and waited for David to finish his washing. He texted Frog, and Falcon X, inquiring on the Laboratory staff. 

Frog 8:40:22 PM  
David is right (?!)  
Frog 8:40:22 PM  
Stay away from labs

TheFalconX: As I have told you previously, that particular department of the Justice HQ is not one you want the attentions of. They are involved in shady operations and I doubt they are happy at your continued existence. I have had my own dealings with them. I can tell you with certainty that they are not to be trusted. Stay far away from them.

Pink Falcon soon sent him a similarly opinionated text, as did Little Pink. Falcon X had likely alerted them.

Sentiment was unanimous, but Jules did not want to comply.

David had said he would continue the investigation on Jules' behalf. In order for David to be able to properly do that, Jules would have to tell him what to look for, which would mean informing him not only of Jules' species' nature, but perhaps even his suspicions concerning the robot that he knew. 

It was not that David felt unworthy of trust. He was confusing, but had never acted towards Jules with malice, and repeatedly gone out of his way for Jules to an extent no one else had. However, David had previously existing loyalties that Jules could not ask him to override. David would go against the laboratory staff for him, but what of other departments? Despite what David had said, all in Mu seemed loyal to their King.

The King had been kind to Jules.

At first Jules had been very disappointed to learn that the King of Mu's telepathic ability was incompatible with Jules' mind. But, the scope of the King's ability, once researched, appeared quite invasive. It was likely for the best that Jules was only able to communicate with him verbally.

At least he had attempted to convince himself of such.

However, from his research it seemed that the King of Mu did not have any difficulties with any human minds. Thus, anything a human knew, the King could learn simply by being in close proximity to them.

Therefore…

The door to the washroom's lock unclicked, and it opened, slightly. "I uh, forgot to grab clothes first, could you pass me something? Something not too fuzzy, maybe."

Jules duly picked out one of his more bland pairs of flannel pajama sets. A simple traditional shirt and pants combination in gray and green, then he passed it through the crack of the door's opening. It was possible that the colours would contrast with David's hair to a flattering aesthetic effect. The sleeves were also quite wide and stretchable, which would hopefully fit David's cast.

"Thanks."

"It is no problem," Jules said to the closed door.

The Shopping Channel was in the middle of switching programs when David exited. The pajamas did indeed cause his own natural colours to be enhanced pleasantly.

"So." David sat on the far edge of the bed, picking at where his sleeved bunched up over his cast. "Robot, huh?"

The arm sling had been discarded with the suit jacket on the floor, which was closer to Jules. He picked it up and handed it to David. "I am not a robot. I believe the correct term would be cyborg."

"So you're part robot."

"Yes, that is what the term means, I thought?"

David shrugged, looking past Jules to the television. "Yeah, I guess so. That's not so weird you know. Lots of people have robot bits nowadays." 

"It is not quite the same as what has been implemented in Earth society." Jules had done extensive research on this topic. While Earth technology was advanced in many ways, the difference was still incomparable. "Please come closer and I will show you."

The muscles between David's eyebrows contracted. "Wait, what do you mean show—"

Jules extended his closer arm then retracted his skin. It had been only a few weeks since he had last done so, yet the process was already so much more difficult. His integration systems were advancing father than estimated. He was still able to extract the flesh-substitute to a depth that showed the artificial enhancements that were a part of his skeleton, although they too had sunk further into humanoid bone.

"Oh," said David, breathing out the word. "Okay."

The reaction was far more subdued than Jules had predicted. Yet still it was concerning. As far was he had seen, humans tended to be repelled by seeing the interiors of animal life similar to their own. Thus while this would not cause Jules any harm it was likely disturbing. "The biological and mechanical components are in the process of melding into one to create a more humanoid form, although I will never have completely human biology."

David stared at the open slice of arm, saying nothing. 

"Does this bother you?" asked Jules.

"No." David's voice was squeaky, as if his vocal cords were too tight. 

Jules relaxed the retracted flesh-substitute and let his arm drop. "I apologize, I only wished to assure you I am not actually a robot."

"No!" David repeated, much louder and faster this time, but still abnormally high pitched. He looked briefly into Jules' eyes then, oddly, his face flushed red. "It's fine! Very interesting."

"I see, that is good then." Jules still let his arm regain its default status. "The integration system has gotten farther in its work than I had anticipated, causing my internal structure to look more similar to your own. I am glad that does not upset you."

David hummed. Nodded. Glanced away then back very quickly. "So, you guys aren't normally human-people looking?"

"No," said Jules. "Through the use of technology, my landing pod was able to sample available human DNA, then use it to begin the process of recreating a humanoid form."

David again would not look at him, instead it was the Shopping Channel program that seemed to hold his attention. It was difficult to tell with the distance between them, but his temperature seemed to have increased, as evidenced by his continued flushing. 

"That sounds complicated. How did it make sure it didn't pick up like, a dog's DNA instead?"

"I am not sure."

"Oh."

Perhaps it was prudent to quickly reach the important information that David would need in order to help Jules' research. "However, the typical form my species takes does look far more robotic than how you see me now, especially due to the metallic exoskeleton. I have noted similarities between that form and those of the robots in the previous three encounters." 

"All right, okay. So your species is usually more roboty and--" David's gaze slid past the television, up to the wall where the photos Jules had collected were taped to the wall. Up, to the ceiling where the photographs became less exotic, and more insectoid. "Huh, suddenly some shit makes way more sense."

If that was a positive or negative statement Jules had no idea. His biological insides, likely already displeased at his interference, twisted unpleasantly. "Does this bother you?"

"What?"

"Does my true nature disturb you?"

"No!" David still did not look at Jules' face, but instead his arm. "It's no problem. Kinda strange to try and imagine how the hell it works, but no, it's fine. So you were like, born—"

"My species is not born," interrupted Jules. He had said too much all ready, that was clear, but now he could not stop. "We are created in batches for predetermined purpose at creation centers. Although a concept similar to the dual sex reproduction similar on Earth does exist on our planet as well, that is only used by lower lifeforms. Even before the integration of technology into our making was implemented, the combination of genetic information was restricted to a specific physical castes, somewhat similar to a method you may have heard of called Parthenogenesis."

David stared at him as he trailed off. "I have not actually heard of that one, but I'm betting it's on Wikipedia." 

"I suppose," Jules conceded. 

David suddenly bent over, fumbling his phone out of his jacket's pocket. "Wait uh, so does that mean. You know."

Jules said nothing so that David could continue.

"You can't uh. Reproduce. Sexually?" Which of David's sentence fragments were meant as questions, Jules was not sure. Possibly all of them. At least most of them.

Which was, despite David's apparent thought otherwise, not a question Jules had considered David wanting the answer to. "I do not believe so. Although so impossible as to not be an idea contemplated at home, with the mysteries of the integration technology, I suppose it could be possible, but I would consider such an act treason." 

"Possible?" David repeated back at him.

"As such I have considered any attempt at sexual relations with a female human ill advised." Again it seemed like Jules had gravely miscalculated. Instead of being upset at the sight of gore, David was instead far more agitated at Jules' unknown reproductive capabilities. "The attempts to control your species' fertility seem capricious." 

"So." David said one syllable then paused. "Wait. Give me a moment."

Jules waited until the presenter on the television switched from explaining the estimated monetary value of a ring to showcasing a bracelet meant to be purchased alongside it.

"Okay," David said. He had not actually looked up anything on his phone. From what Jules could see he only had opened a messaging service. "So you used to be a cyborg bug but your robots bits made a human body and now you are a cyborg human and can…"

"Mostly." Suddenly, Jules had an idea. It had already worked once. "If you are confused I can show you again and try to explain more clearly. I am able to retract the flesh material from areas other than my limbs if necessary. If you are concerned about my reproductive capa--" 

"Maybe I should have my shower!" exclaimed David.

"You have already had a shower," replied Jules.

"Right," said David. "I mean your shower. You should have yours."

David was not wrong, but the attempt to change the subject seemed deliberately abrupt. David, Jules was forced to conclude, was indeed disturbed by the truth of Jules' form. "I suppose."

He gathered his sleeping clothes as David said nothing more. The television's programing switched to a new topic. 

"Please eat one of the sandwiches," Jules said before closing the door to the washroom.

*

David lay belly up on Jules' bed, good arm safely flat by his side and gripping his cell, and tried really hard not to think about how soon the budget was due. 

Damn, that one contracted guy who several different departments were all responsible for paying, caused each department's budget to include a column for forty two cents covering 'deterioration' costs on his laptop. Why did they even need that guy? Why couldn't they just have their own tech guy that was paid by the tech department? 

Fuck that guy.

No, not fucking any guy.

Fuck.

Uh.

The TV droning on about tacky women's reversible pant suits helped. Unfortunately staring at the collage of bugs on the ceiling did not.

Oh god, why didn't it help.

He tried answering texts. 

Frog: Keep Jules away from labs  
David: That's the plan

That sort of helped. He considered googling 'Parthenogenesis,' then let the phone flop down onto the blanket.

The door to the washroom creaked, spilling light across Jules' bed. David didn't move. Maybe he could just be a coward and pretend to be asleep. Jules's face appeared over him before David could try it.

"I have considered our conversation," said Jules, frowning in shadow. "I would like to apologise. I did not mean to upset you."

Great, now David had gone and given the poor space alien a complex just because he need to hide a boner over his weird gore fetish. Good job, David.

"No, you didn't. It's not even a surprise really, the robot thing." David had thought from the start that Jules was either some sort of robot or an insane hobo pretending to be a robot. Then he'd become pretty sure of the robot part, now it turned out he kinda was. A robot. Not an insane hobo. Thank god. "I'm not bothered by it."

Actually.

"Doesn't it bother you?" David asked, pushing himself up on his good arm. "You're the one that got all shape-shifted into some fleshy human thing. Honestly, that sounds painful as fuck."

Jules only seemed more confused. "It did not hurt. I was unconscious for the main realignment of my skeleton. At this point the progression of integration is subtle enough it does not cause physical discomfort."

"Yeah but—"

The mattress dipped as Jules sat by David's head. "I have heard many people state their dislike of insects. They are considered gross by the majority of your cultures."

"Well, maybe." David wracked his memories, hoping he hadn't said anything like that while Jules could hear. He'd never been big on bugs. Mostly because they tended to suck out all his blood. Okay, that was just mosquitoes. Fuck mosquitoes. Wait. No. "But what I mean was, I mean, you probably think humans look weird, right? So who cares."

"I see." Jules tilted his head, as if listening to the TV for a moment. Then he turned his attention back to David. "I do think your forms are rather impractical in many respects."

Now here was safe territory. "You've mentioned that before, yeah."

Jules paused just long enough for David to worry his deflection hadn't worked but then: "I believe I mostly complained about your senses. In terms for anatomy I take most issue with Bipedalism. It is precarious." 

"You're not wrong, but." Yup, much safer territory. "Well, it means we get hands."

"Only if you are limited to four limbs. The most obvious similarity of my species to the robots that have attacked in the previous months is that they have four limbs for locomotion, and two grasping appendages. We are also able to manipulate material with the claspers of our antenna, classifying them as a lesser set of hands."

Imagining Jules with antenna was easier than as a metal bug centaur. They'd probably move all the time and be cute. Cute little antenna with tiny hands on them. Okay, creepy-cute. "Sounds useful. Sorry you only got two hands now. That's a downgrade, I will admit."

Jules' antennae would totally be dropping right now if they still existed. "It truly does not upset you?"

"It doesn't, really! It's just kinda hard to visualize." David tried really hard to look truthful. 'Don't give the space alien a complex,' he repeated in his head. 'Don't do it.' 

"I would like to believe you," said Jules. "But you seem upset."

No, oh no. Wrong direction. "That's me being a weirdo, it's not your fau—"

Then Jules' hand covered David's face. "Why is your face so hot?"

David got half a syllable out before realising his lips were moving against Jules' palm and his face got a whole lot hotter.

"One probable cause would be that you are sick." Jules only moved himself closer. "However, you do not appear to be ill."

David turned his head a bit so he could speak. "I'm not sick." 

"David," said Jules. "I am going to ask you a very blunt, and likely rude question, and for that I apologise in advance: are you sexually attracted to me?"

*

"And then what did you do?" asked the King.

David sat in the King of Mu's office, which probably wasn't actually several degrees warmer than normal. "Mostly I gaped like a fish?"

*

"Um," David had said.

"Well," he later said.

Jules looked very sad.

*

"You didn't lie to the poor boy, did you?" asked the King.

*

"Yes," David had said after a bit more gaping. Because fuck it, his weird hang-ups weren’t Jules' fault, and Jules' knee was far too close to his crotch to not notice his boner because fuck everything in general, why had he not brought alcohol to the sleepover? "Sorry."

But Jules had only frowned further and looked sadder, more confuseder. "Why are you apologising?"

*

"A reasonable question," said the King. "Also 'confuseder' is not a word."

"I know that!" David replied as he tried to make tea with one arm.

*

Jules' frown had flattened then as he pushed off the bed into a stand. "I do not understand how courting works in this society, even after so much research. I have attempted to signal my interest multiple times but have either been rebuffed or ignored. I had concluded I was simply not a suitable subject."

Wait what. He'd what. "You what?"

"I have attempted to court you," Jules said. "Repeatedly."

"You did?"

*

"Honestly, I'd thought he was being rather obvious." The King paused to sip his tea. "I had hoped a small nudge would topple you into noticing. But my dear David, you can rather dense, can't you?"

*

A shit ton of weird happenings clicked into order. Horrible, embarrassing order. 

"Oh," David had eventually managed. "Well shit."

*

"And then instead of asking him to sweep you into his arms in a passionate embrace you did what?" asked the King, already knowing the answer. The bastard.

"I am most certainly not, David."

Fuck. Fine. The jerkface.

*

"Okay." David had said. "Okay. I am a really horrible choice for that."

"But—"

"No look, it's nothing to do with you. You're nice, smart, you are the definition of conventionally attractive, and you've met like, what a dozen people since you’ve arrived on the planet? If you wait about a month for the thaw the building's population is going to triple. You will have so many better options."

The rambling had gone on for some time, becoming even more incoherent as it continued.

*

The King shook his head. "I am so disappointed in you, David. So then what happened?"

"He hugged me and we watched women sell bags on TV until I realised I hadn't eaten any sandwiches and I asked him what the fuck a catfe is. Then I snuck back to my room in pajamas to down as much alcohol as I could in five minutes before stumbling back to his place and passing out which I don't think he was happy about?" David drank his cup of tea in a gulp that went just a little bit down the wrong tube. "Look. Shouldn't you care more about the information on Jules' species than my pathetic love life?"

"You can't run a kingdom without the ability to multitask." The King took a sip without choking. "But that is very interesting information, so you did do part of your assignment correctly."

David just frowned at his tea. The King knew what he wanted to ask anyways.

"I will keep the Lab boys away from Jules, as long as you keep Jules away from the labs. My son has been talked to."

"But what they said--!"

"We have found several odd wrecks off the coast in the last few months. Very odd. No survivors. That's all."

That's all. Jesus Christ, they really had dead aliens in the building and no one was going to tell Jules.

"I wouldn't suggest it, based on your conviction that knowing would only make him attempt to break into the labs again."

"Then why bother to—"

"Have a good time on your catfe date, David, that's an order." The asshole smiled. "And please try to drink less."

*

"Fuck it let's go today," David said as he exited the King's office and shuffled into the waiting room. "Catfe. You. Me. It'll be a date."

Jules' face just lit right up and he all but jumped out of the ridiculously plush chair. Fuck.

A detour for coats and hats to survive that one brief run to the tunnel from the doors later—and David managed to resist smuggling a flask inside any of them--and they were off to—

A catfe. David was still not sure on what the fuck that was. There would be cats. Jules liked cats, at least in theory. There would be food. David needed food. Win win?

Whatever, he didn't have choice. Someone else would have to deal with the budget today.

Then tomorrow he'd have to fix whatever mess they had made of it.

Ugh.

Okay, fuck it, for now he just had to remember where the damn subway station was so Jules could finally see cats. There were signs, yeah, but they weren't that helpful when they were telling him how to get to every station other than the one he wanted and he knew was nearby. Sure he could walk fifteen more minutes to Cetus, but Orm had to be around here somewhere and his travel app told him to use it—

Oh there it was, past the lockers that were for some reason wrapped in a dancing banana design. 

The crowds got thicker as they closed in on the gates. Jules grabbed David's hand, maybe so they wouldn't be separated, maybe as part of the whole dating thing. 

Jules had been googling it. David had watched him google it. 

Their first obstacle was getting tickets. Find their station. Find the station they wanted to end at. Find price. Enter price. Something something, ticket. David left it to Jules. For some reason he seemed to actually enjoy the process.

"I can buy both of our tickets at once!" Jules said with an almost natural looking smile.

"That's great, fucking do it already," said the asshole behind them. David flipped him off as Jules beep booped them some tickets.

Some shoving, some pushing, some fiddling with getting the damn ticket into the slot. Finally, the train. They had seats even.

Jules looked out the windows, rapt, even though all they passed by was more tunnel. The subway was true to its name until you got out into the suburbs and then you had to transfer to trains and shit.

David hadn't been on one since—

He couldn't even remember. He'd spent way too much time fare jumping when he'd first got to the capital, but then, eh.

Looked like they hadn't changed the seat fabric since them. Gross. 

"I have read that cats rub their heads on items and humans they consider theirs in order to scent them in a show of ownership," said Jules, reading off his phone.

"Yeah?"

"Hold still for a moment please."

David did, abet with slight concern.

Jules squished against the side of his face.

He stayed there.

David decided to just not bother moving and leaned on him. Jules already sniffed him enough, might as well just smell like him. Hell, with the amount of times David was using Jules' shower and soap he probably was starting to anyway. There were worse things he could smell like.

Like booze. Jules had not been very pleased about that one. David had been guilted into brushing his teeth with Jules' sad 'But David, I am allergic and I thought we would be able to kiss now that we are officially dating.'

There still hadn't been any kissing. Jules's sense of smell was still way better than a human's. And whatever his biological mechanical whateverness, he apparently totally had that thing where if you throw up smelling something related to tossing your chunks makes you want to puke again.

So.

Jules had sniffed David again in the morning after he brushed his teeth and hadn't mentioned kissing again. This head smooshing was the closest his nose had gotten to David's mouth since.

The silence—as much as anything on a subway could be called silence--was broken with: "Humans are certainly fascinated by the mostly empty void around their planet." 

David followed Jules' line of sight to the advertisement for a televised multi-part special on the universe. Gee, why ever could that be funded by the educational council of Mu all of a sudden? A mystery. 

"This coming from the guy whose people shot him through said void to seek out new life and new civilizations," said David, using the reference even though he knew there was no way in Hell Jules would know it.

Jules continued to study the train's ads. Maybe it was this distraction that allowed his next words. "We only gained such an interest and the means to pursue it recently. If not for outside influence I doubt we would have ever seen need to study space."  
David heard a record scratch. Or maybe that was the train changing tracks. "Wait, are you saying there are other space aliens than your guys?"

Jules jerked away and possibly, looked guilty. On someone else it might have been embarrassment. "I should probably not—"

"Oh my god," David said. "There are other space aliens."

Wait, maybe it was embarrassment after all. "I did not state—"

"You said it by not saying it." David was very careful to neither panic nor laugh at Jules' panic.

"Oh." Jules' frame condensed a little, then the words just burst out. "If it is any consolation they must have no interest in your planet as if they appear to be very aggressive. The environment of Earth is quite different to my planet. Perhaps they decided there were no resources here worth invading for, as the location of Earth was existent in the remains of their database we salvaged after their failed invasion."

"That is the opposite of consolation." 'Aggressive?' 'Invasion?' There were actual killer aliens out there. What the fuck. "Have you told the King this?"

Jules tilted his head, so genuine, so confused. "Do you think I should?" 

"Yes." Emphatically yes. Fuck, David was going to have to report this. He did not want to report this. "Wait, wait, so these aliens went to your planet and invaded, and you beat them."

Jules hesitated. "Yes."

"And they already knew about Earth?"

"That is how my own people knew there was life to investigate here." It seemed once Jules started sharing he just couldn't stop. Thank fuck there was no one else in the train car. "Does this upset you?"

"No—" Okay, that was a lie. It was one thing to know a strange man who claimed to be a space alien, and was at the very least a robot. It was a completely different monster to digest the idea that there was another invasion-prone alien species out there that already knew Earth existed and just hadn’t bothered because, reasons. "So then if they don' think we're worth taking over, why did you come here?"

Jules frowned, not in an angry looking way more like a hurt way. "I did not lie previously. Our mission is to investigate Earth and the dominant civilization. All planets noted as having a form of complex life have similar missions."

Oh, so it wasn't like Earth was special or anything. Also, even more aliens.

Jules paused for a moment then added while nodding, "I should probably not be telling you any of this, but because I have already told you so much I should not, it feels as if I cannot stop."

Ah, the spilling everything once you let out one secret effect. David knew it better than he'd like. So, even though he was brimming over with them he said: "Okay, I'll stop asking questions for now. Just tell the King about those potential alien invaders at some point?"

"I will," said Jules.

And then it was back to the noise of wheels grinding on old metal.

It wasn't that many stops until they hit the one they wanted. The grimy concrete and tile tunnel let out into the underground parking lot of some mall newer than David's job. 

Cavernous, overly decorated clearly it had gotten some nice backing from the government. Weird pseudo arty shit was everywhere, from the tiles that spelled out random famous cities for no reason, to the blinky fairy lights in the dark blue curved ceiling that were probably constellations or something. And pillars. Lots of random stucco pillars covered in patches of lighter paint meant to cover up graffiti, but now drawing attention to the fact it was covering up graffiti. 

The Catfe was upstairs, tucked into a corner by some stairs that went who knew where. They were blocked off with yellow tape anyways.

Jules was still holding his hand.

"This is very exciting," Jules said.

David tried to find the QR code on his phone. With the broken arm. The other one was busy.

Jules opened the door. Slowly, like the hand-printed sign instructed.

And then David's nose started itching.

*

The curtains were open, although that barely gave any light. Splotches of melted slush streaked up the glass and the rest of the view was grey cloud, grey concrete and grey mountains. Wait, holy shit, David could see the mountains from here, how far out were they? At the office it was always blocked by other bigass buildings.

"They like to watch the snow sometimes," the waitress explained, setting over-priced cans of generic soda on the tabletop. Without Frog's coupon the sodas would have been five bucks each on top of an entrance fee. Un-fucking-believable.

Jules was already perfectly crouched with his legs under the edge of the table, playing the drinks no notice, gazing expectantly towards the walls that were a jigsaw of boxes and platforms, burrows with hidey-holes in die-cut shapes of hearts and cat heads. 

David sniffed. There was dust or something.

Then they were alone. Alone but for the dozen cats that stared at them from their perches, eyes shining in the low light of the tacky cat-themed lamps.

David popped his coke open. All eyes turned to him.

Jesus Christ.

They drank, Jules always happy to dig into some sugar water, David always happy to ingest caffeine.

One of the cats moved.

"They are very interesting in real life," said Jules. "I like that this facility has a variety of types. I read you are able to adopt them."

It was white, looking like some ghost in the shadows, and as it climbed down the shelves the black spots on its back undulated, almost like one of those ink blot things. "Yeah. Okay."

Jules stuck out his hand. The cat ducked away. He leaned backwards in an attempt to reach it. It wandered around him. It didn't even look at him.

It sort of glared at David.

"How do I make them like me?" Jules asked.

"I dunno." David started in on his coke as his eyes watered for some reason. 

The cat kept glaring. Could cats glare? The cat was totally glaring. "Animals like food, right?"

"We are not allowed to feed them. It said so on the rules." Once again the cat ducked out of the way as Jules attempted to pat it. "We must follow the rules."

The cat circled near the window then headed towards David. David scooted away. "I dunno."

The cat continued towards him. David scooted. Another cat slunk down from the shelves. David scooted until he was pressed up against Jules' side. "Try reverse psychology. Shoo them away."

"David." Jules tilted his head towards David, his eyes wide. "Are you afraid of cats?"

"No!" He only startled a little when it jumped on to the table.

Oh godamnit it was sniffing his can. Oh no, it licked it. It now had his DNA.

Jules only nodded. "It is fine, I will protect you from the cats."

"I'm not scared of cats!"

"David," Jules said as he placed his hand over David's which was not gripping the table cloth in fear at all. "As we are now officially a romantic couple, I was to understand that means there should be less boundaries between us, and thus no reason to lie."

"I was under the impression dating someone worked the opposite, actually." The words were out of David's mouth before he realised what a really dumb thing it was to say. Like Jules needed more reason not to trust him. Like David wasn't actually hiding shit. Shit like, oh yeah they have your dead friend's bodies in storage somewhere.

"Oh." Jules really was getting better at inflection.

David pulled his eyes away from the cat threat to the emotional threat. "That was a joke. Mostly a joke. What have you been reading again?" 

"I suppose." Jules drew the words out slowly. "Due to your previous partner, that would make sense—"

David was actually almost happy that the cat attacked him before that sentence finished.

*

There wasn't a bathroom attached to the catfe, so David dragged his sad, soggy ass across the way to the one by the food court. Half the stores were shuttered and there were no customers, so at least no one saw David drip coke all over the tiling.

He'd left Jules to the cats and his own soda with an: "I'm fine. I'm fine. Be right back."

Maybe he'd manage to pet one with David out of the way. Those things definitely had it in for him.

At least the mens room was empty too, so David could just give up and take off his shirt to wash. Pink dispenser soap was probably not the best for soda stains on white cotton blend but whatever. Then began the endless hitting the hand dryer button to try and dry the dang thing. Click click click.

Goddamnit, why wasn't it drying all ready? Jules was going to think he'd been abandoned.

David heard the door open, and studiously kept his eyes on the shirt. Great, now some random stranger was going to see him half naked. Maybe it was Jules. That would be embarrassing on a different front but otherwise better.

But he didn't hear Jules' voice, and whoever it was just walked closer. 

Okay, that was usually a bad sign in the mens room.

David's gun was under his jacket on the counter. Arm length away, except it was on the side of where his arm was kinda tied up at the moment.

The footsteps stopped. There was a low whistle.

"If I didn't know better I'd think you knew I was coming. No complaints though, Davey."

David's hand froze on the hand dryer button. It couldn't be. Someone was fucking with him.

Slowly, carefully, David turned.

It looked like Al. It even looked the right amount older. But there was no fucking way it could be Al. 

"I'm going to shoot whoever set up this prank and no one will convict me."

The asshole smiled. Just like Al would have.

"Davey, I'd almost think you weren’t happy to see me."

It sounded right. The voice was right. The words, the tone. But it couldn't be. But either way, the answer was the same. "I'm not fucking happy to see you."

"Hey, don't worry. I don't blame you for thinking someone was fooling with ya." Al kicked at the ground, hands in his pockets. He acted like this was all normal. Like things were normal. "Dumbshit me, only realised that after I sent the damn ring I forgot to add a letter or anything. So I've just been lurking. Ring's got a fancy tracker thing in there so I knew when you'd be out of that big box."

The ring. 

The ring had been a damn trap and it was still in David's goddamn coat pocket.

Okay, that helped edge things back into clear headed fury. "So you come back from the dead to what? Stalk me?"

Al looked from the pile of coat and shirt on the countertop to David, and what was left of his face dropped. "Ya really ain't happy to see me."

Of course fucking Al would be confused. 

"Al." And goddamnit why did his chest twist to say that out loud? "You blew up downtown, were pronounced dead after a year of investigation, then a decade later you send me a goddamn ring in the mail, corner me in a mall washroom, and expect me to be happy?!"

"I'll admit, this location weren’t exactly my first choice, but—" In two steps Al was close, way too close, close enough David could tell he was still using that too loud cologne. Al only got closer when he leaned in, one arm braced beside David's head against the wall. "I didn't want pretty boy back there to interrupt."

There was a rumble, then a crashing noise, that sick crunch David knew too well meant rebar and concrete was done for.

"That'd be the distraction then." Al fucking smiled as he said it. His teeth were still perfect. The rest of his face wrecked to hell but he'd always had chiclet white teeth.

What the fuck.

There was still the small teeny sliver of hope that this was some horrible prank until Al melted the tiles beside David's head and the smell of burning flesh filled the air as a little drip of lava leaked from Al's forehead gash. Yeah. That was hard to copy.

Wait.

Shit. Al had never done anything by halves. And considering his supposed last act, an explosion was potentially even worse news than explosions normally were. "Distraction? Hey, leave that kid alone, Al-"

Al shrugged, a smooth motion that undulated under his cheap suit coat. "Eh, he'll be fine if reports of his durableness are true." He glanced at his watch. It wasn't one David recognised but the right style. Clunky, metal, leather, told time and nothing else. "But you and me, we got a schedule to keep."

Fuck, there was no way in Hell David could grab the gun faster than Al could stop him, and even if he had it, would he really—

Al somehow managed to step even closer. What the fuck, how did he manage that.

And David was reminded, as Al glanced down, that he was still topless. Great.

There was another rumble.

"Now, you going to come nicely, or am I going to have to convince you?" Al didn't look too displeased at the idea either way.

Maybe ten years ago, David wouldn't have either, but a lot of shit had changed. A lot of people had died. 

It wasn't going to work, but he went for the gun anyway.

"Oh goddangit," he heard before he was slammed into the wall. 

"Ow," he said deadpan a possible.

"David." There was both irritation and just a tinge of humor in his voice. 

"Ow my arm." 

"David, c'mon." 

Even after ten years of being dead, turned out Al was still able to carry him.


	6. Chapter 6

0308 19:47 itisfrog  
@CATfeMu Radioshack under the desk.

0308 19:56 CATfeMu  
Prince Piper has been found safe and sound in the Radioshack. Thank you to all who looked!

0308 20:03 CATfeMu  
Please send all donations to https://www.gofundme.com/f/catfe-explosi...

*

The cats were unharmed.

That was the only positive outcome of the battle.

David was now gone.

The robot that Jules knew was gone.

Jules was unable to pursue either.

He had to be dug out of rubble. This took several hours.

It was quite cold. Also wet. The precipitation was somewhere between the categories of rain and snow.

There had been human casualties from the explosions. He did not know if that meant they were dead or simply injured. The term was unclear.

The Frog had told him the catfe had not been damaged. She had told him this in person.

His phone was broken.

David's had been found in what remained of the bathroom.

Jules avoided being sent to the medical office. Barely.

He was, however, questioned in the same examination room he had been interviewed in upon his arrival to the planet.

The line of questioning was much harsher this time. His release had been conditional.

He had been instructed to remain inside his designated room until told otherwise. This had been stated in a threatening manner.

With no phone, he could not contact anyone for information.

He turned the television on. He changed the channel from the Shopping Network to the local news. Information was sparse. 

He checked every other news channel he had access to. They were similarly unhelpful. They only story they seemed to care about was that the King of Mu had cancelled an appearance. They gossiped about possible inter-familial conflicts concerning his son and his son's wife, who had announced through a third party that she would not return in time for the anniversary celebrations. Some suspected impending divorce.

Jules did not care.

They did not mention the involvement of any robots at the mall's destruction. They barely discussed the event at all.

He paced. 

He changed the channel again.

He pressed his hands against the wall, not trusting himself to touch the door.

Time passed.

He tried the handle anyways.

It was locked.

He sat on the bed.

Various programs passed.

The light under the door darkened as someone stepped in front of it. An envelope was shoved through, with some difficulty.

Jules had it open before the visitor left.

It was a phone.

Jules powered it on. There was only a simple messaging app installed. It had three notifications.

TheFalconX: I need to speak with you.  
TheFalconX: In person not via text message. This is urgent.  
TheFalconx: escapeinstructions.pdf

*

"So," David said, tied to a puke-orange Danish sofa that smelled like rotted cigarettes as a robot suspiciously covered in soot stared down at him. "This is awkward."

More awkward for how it wasn't even the first time he'd woken up this way in his life. But he'd kinda hoped he'd put those years behind him. He'd thought he'd put a lot of things behind him. But here they were fucking his life over. Now with added robot buddy. What the fuck.

The robot didn't say anything. It just stood there.

It didn't seem to be looking at anything either. 

Was it even on?

Was it alive?

Was this thing one of the robots Jules thought had something to do with his space buddies?

Was it a Jules-bot?

Was that what Jules had looked like? Probably not the bits of different metal that were bolted on, but the thing underneath it all. It didn't really even look like alive, not to mention capable of turning into a human. Where would those extra legs even go? Would they just drop off? And those antennae…

Oh shit. It moved. "Uh."

It leaned closer, making a slight scratching sound where new and old plates of metal hit. The head came close enough David could feel how cold it was. Something like a grate pressed against the top of his head, squishing his hair into his scalp.

Then it sniffed him.

The door opened, slamming into the wall hard enough to leave a dent.

"Hey, get off of him!" The words were barely out of Al's mouth before the robot was off of David's head. Al could never be as fast as Pink Falcon, or even Jules, but damn was he quick on his feet for how big he was.

The robot didn't resist, just clattered back then slumped into a stop a few feet away before straightening, standing like it had before.

It was almost, for a moment, like things were normal as Al yelled at the robot with that familiar edge of violence that made his voice nice and deep. "You stay away from him. You don't touch him. You don't go near him. Understand? Now get outta here."

Well, the normal of over a decade ago.

As soon as the door was closed Al turned back to him, crouched down, and now it was his face too damn close to David, his voice completely different, now no one else was around to hear, his movements less sharp, almost tender as he tilted David's face up to the light. "You okay? That bucket of bolts didn't do anything weird?"

"It didn't do anything." David had thought, a decade ago, that Al could sure as Hell hurt other people, but he'd never hurt him. But that had been a decade ago. So who fucking knew. So maybe he should have kept his tone a bit more civil when he kept going. So what. "That was sure a lot of rumbling at the mall. How many people'd you blow up this time?"

Al just grinned like it was a joke. "I dunno, haven't checked the news."

"What, you managed to kick the vanity googling? You've changed." 

"It's not vanity, Davey, you gotta know where your star is."

David looked around. Difficult, with his body firmly tied to a sofa and Al holding his chin, but he tried. "Your star's currently in a 70s basement, by the looks of it."

Al fucking laughed, sounding way too good for a dead asshole. When had David last heard someone laugh like that? "Hey I didn't pick the place."

He couldn't fucking remember, and that was what brought him back to reality.

"Oh? Then who did? You know, all the reports thought you were working for someone else in the end." It hadn't sounded like Al, not when David had first gotten access and read all the papers he could with his new shiny office door locked. 

But here Al was with a robot from space, and that didn't seem much like Al either. So maybe David had been right on the money when he concluded that he hadn't known the guy that well after all. "Who'd you sell your soul to anyways? Most of the bets were China or Russia. Or the Americans. Please tell me you have better taste than to sell out to the Americans."

"Worse." Al let go and if that was good or bad, David didn't have time to decide before Al raised David's hand to his gnarled lips. "This is an inside job, darling, and this time we're going full patricide."

*

Apparently travelling through air ventilation systems was a considered a cliché in genre films. Jules had not watched many of them, finding the concept of fiction for entertainment confusing. Still, he had wondered if their repeated elements perhaps encoded some deeper meaning. Humans rarely stated what they truly meant outright, perhaps this was another convoluted way of transmitting opinion.

He had soon given up, returned to watching the shopping channel, and concluded humans enjoyed lying.

However, perhaps this one cliché was truth, for it appeared to be a viable path of travel in the Justice Department Headquarters building C. Falcon X's map was very clear and easy to follow, and when Jules passed security cameras, they did not seem to be operating. He turned the final corner indicated then slid the panel open. He had to squeeze to fit his shoulders, but the floor, while far below, was not so far as to cause him any injury.

As soon as he landed, Falcon X emerged from the shadows. 

"Hello," said Jules. Falcon X had just aided him in escaping his rooms and was about to aid him further. It was important to be polite no matter how urgent their task was.

Falcon X ignored his greeting and responded by handing Jules a small bag: "Here is your phone. Minus the tracker, by the way."

The phone was indeed inside the bag and seemed to be functioning normally. There were several message indications. None from David.

"Thank you," said Jules. "Do you know why I am being confined?"

"Yes." Falcon X gestured in a way indicating Jules should follow him. "Do you know what a coup is?"

It was a word that had no equivalent in Jules' home, but he had learnt it soon enough from the international news. "The King of Mu has been assassinated?"

"Not yet." Falcon X did not sound concerned. Perhaps this was a good sign. "The attempt is ongoing. He's being held somewhere. Not in this complex. His son has almost certainly shown his hand too soon so there is not much to worry about there. But in the meantime, that will make everything else much more difficult."

They turned, and were now at the entrance waiting room to the laboratory "However, it does mean security in certain other areas of the facility are more lax."

Falcon X nodded to the unpleasant man who had previously barred Jules entry. "Gerald."

Jules was only able to detect that movement happened, the result of which was 'Gerald' now lay unconscious on the floor.

"We will have limited time, but follow me."

Falcon X led Jules through the convoluted series of rooms and passages between what Jules assumed were the department's projects. They passed the storage area Jules had previously investigated when the Prince—who was perhaps soon to be the new King—had given him access to the area.

"They are here." Falcon X tapped a code into a door's lock. There was the sound of suction as the door opened. "I warn you, this sight will be unpleasant."

Of the thirty one others who had accompanied Jules to Earth, four lay in various states of dismemberment on tables.

*

"All I want is some pain meds. Or a gun to put me out of my misery," David said as the 'doctor' again prodded his cast. 

"Hmm," said the 'doctor,' title still firmly in quotes, and using the most fake-sounding Russian accent David had ever heard. "It is swelling. That is bad."

He'd been let into the room by the robot, and introduced properly via text message from whoever was cutting Al's paycheck as Doctor Yar Voznyuk. Yeah fucking right.

Al was watching the guy like he was security detail at a Vegas casino. "No shit, so is it broken again or what, 'doctor'?"

Ah, Al had him in quotes too. Of course they were on the same page for that. They always had been. Part of David was so fucking pissed that even after all the bullshit, it was so easy, so goddamn easy to slip into how things were. But everything was different. Al had fucking blown up a city block, left David to rot in prison, now was apparently going to help murder the person that had gotten David out of prison who oh yeah, was also the King of the goddamn country.

"Eh, I must touch it closer to be certain." 

"Please don't," said David.

"Couldn't ya give him something before the man-handling, doc?" Al said still looking at the asshole like he was a second from backhanding him.

"Please," said David.

"Over medication is such an issue of the modern times," said the doctor and oh god could he just stop.

'Who the fuck is this idiot?' mouthed David.

Al shrugged and rolled his eyes as much as he could.

Way too easy to slip.

Meanwhile the robot was just staring at the lot of them. 

Was that what Jules would be like if his pod-thing had broke? If he'd been picked up by someone else, someone like these assholes?

It didn't even act alive.

Could it talk? Should David have tried talking to it?

It was the one that'd David had shot, he could tell that much. Enough staring and David had even found the dent where the bullet had bounced off. Was it pissed about that?

It had been fighting Jules. As far as David could figure, from what Jules had said, that didn't make sense, so David was going to blame Al's bosses on that one. It was probably broken in. 

If it was much like Jules, that would take some work. 

Then again—

David recalled the night Jules wouldn't stop shaking. If someone had swooped in then—  
What the fuck had Al let be done to it? What had Al done to it? For all he'd coddle David, to other people, well.

David had liked that, ten years ago.

He heaved forwards as much as the rope would allow.

"Shit, he's gonna--!" Al must have had a trashbin handy because before the sentence could finish—and before David could start—there was a bin in front of David's mouth, then a hand in his hair to pull it out of the way as he puked up a can's worth of coke.

David lolled head first onto the couch after he'd finished. 

Al chased off the 'doctor.' David heard the door shut, but if the robot was still there he didn't want to lift his head enough to check.

"Fucking amateurs." Al's feet moved out of David's view, then returned with a glass of very unnatural looking blue liquid that smelled minty. "Shit, that cause of the pain or what?"

David forced his head to turn a little, enough to look past Al's leg to where, yeah, there it was, the robot stood like nothing was going on around it at all. "Just feeling like shit. Normal day, really." 

Then Al tilted David's head back so he could drink Listerine and David almost puked again, but managed to hold back.

"Ya ain't supposed to swallow that stuff, you know?"

David replied with some sort of garbled noise.

Al's look was exasperated, but fond. To most people it probably just looked pissed, but David knew the difference. "After this is over with we're getting your liver checked on, Davey."  
This whole situation was still taking way too much brainpower for David to try to catch up to it. He'd blame pain meds but no one was fucking giving him any. The pain was bad, but he'd had worse. This was just all going sideways on him. Turned out David was shit at talking to ghosts.

But maybe, maybe if he had an actual goddamn conversation with Al something could get sorted, even if it was just, 'so have you been beating the shit out of the robot? Cause please stop.'

"Yeah well, no one's plans today been going right." Al crouched down to his level, but he didn't look at David, but his phone. 

He'd hated the smart phones when they'd started. 'I want fucking buttons' he'd said. And well, now he had some slim grey thingy with no case whatsoever but a weird little dangly—

"Al," David mumbled, mouth half squished against the sofa cushion. "Is that a teeny tiny skull on your phone?"

Al kept on texting. "Yup."

Ignored for phones, at least Jules could multitask the damn device.

Jules—

Jules was too robot alien tough to die, right? And he wasn't going to do something dumb if he'd seen his robot buddy again like try to break in the lab, right? Or do something even dumber and try to find David.

Although.

Surely someone was on that. 

Right?

David didn't flatter himself to think the JHQ would send their top talent to un-kidnap him, and they were probably busy with whatever mess Al had made—

And he really wasn't sure if he wanted to know just how much of a mess it had been this time. But if it had been big, then would anyone even know David was gone yet? Did Jules think he was stuck under concrete somewhere? 

"Al, is the mall still standing?"

Al glanced up. "Eh? Told you before. I haven't been checking the news." 

"But you blew it up, right? You killed a shitton of people." Again. "Again."

"Davey, I know I haven't explained shit, and you need to get your arm fixed and some Tylenol but—"

"One hundred and forty eight people!" Wow, he could actually still remember the number. Maybe because he'd read the reports again after Jules had gotten curious. Maybe because it was important.

"Davey—"

David kept shouting as behind Al the robot kept still, like nothing was happening. Was it even looking at them? Did it understand anything either of them were saying? David kinda hoped it didn't. "No, Al, you killed one hundred forty eight people on their way to fucking work and then you fucking died yourself! Now what, I'm supposed to act like ten years didn't happen? Like you didn't leave me to rot for a decade?"

Maybe that was why David hadn't wanted to press it, because maybe that was the real fucked up part, that the thing that hurt David the most, that had fucked him up worse, that had made him not care if he did get beaten to death in prison, not that Al had hurt other people, but that'd he'd abandoned David. When he'd been dead, it had hurt enough, but now that he'd been alive the whole damn time?

So David didn't have much high ground, because that was probably really shitty priorities.

"I didn't want to stay away so long, Davey, I swear!" Al fucking looked distraught, and that hurt too, curdling in David's empty stomach. 

But shouting back was easier than getting into a mess of feelings. That wasn't old or new, just a constant fact of life. "Then why bother to come back now? I finally had my life something close to functional and now that's been blown to hell a second time cause of you!" 

The last few months he'd almost even felt like he was alive instead of just existing. He'd talked to people outside of work, had a point outside of work, and the reason for that, well for all David knew right now they were dead underneath the wreckage of a mall.

They'd been on a date, a cute stupid date like they were teenagers in some wholesome movie the King would approve of. Not a washed up drunken mess of a man and a space alien who, okay, probably could have still fit into that wholesome movie. 

If Jules was alive then he was probably better off if David never got un-kidnapped.

Damnit, a few more months and there would have been loads of people for Jules to get friendly with. Once the weather got consistently above zero the JHQ was flooded with seasonal talent. Jules would be spoiled for choice on who to take to catfes. David could make sure they weren’t a total idiot. Happiness for space alien: achieved.

Right now there was just Frog and Pink Falcon, and Bonnie wasn't even in the country right now was she? She'd left for that damn movie. What unfortunate timing. 

Speaking of timing.

"You disappeared the day before I got arrested. The world bows up three days later. You plan that, Al?"

Al fucking shrugged, of course he did. He always did if the question was serious. "Didn't want you involved, so I gave you an alibi. You were safer in the clink."

"No I fucking wasn't."

The grin fell, as much as it could. "Davey, c'mon, I would have gotten you sooner but I couldn't. I was flat out for years, then I had to learn how to walk again, and then…" It was a good story, and it was probably true. Al was shit at lying even to other people, not to mention David. "Well that weren’t cheap, and I'm still in the process of paying it off."

If Al had been stuck in a stretcher then—

"You could have sent a letter." David glared. He was angry, good, he was staying angry. Feeling bad for Al was not happening. Nope. "You sent one eventually."

"Because sending mail to the highest security prison and then the highest security building in the country is easy?" The jerk laughed, more annoyingly for kinda having a point. "You know how many people I had to bribe to send you the ring? I could only do that 'cause of the hooks we got into the Justice Playground for the big job."

David made sure he was frowning, a lot. "The big job where you're going to kill the King and probably start a civil war."

Al shrugged. "I don't fixate much on the details."

He frowned harder. "Maybe you should start."

But his concerns were just waved off with a: "Davey, Davey." 

"You know. Generally people call me 'David' now," David corrected. "I think I've outgrown Davey. I'm almost thirty five."

That got what was perhaps the first real frown out of Al. But it slid off his face fast enough as he moved closer. "I get it, you're pissed at me. You've have a shit day. I maybe killed off my competition. Can't blame ya for being grumpy."

'Competition.' Fucking hell. So Al knew about Jules. Jules' chances of being alive dropped faster than David's stomach. 

Maybe swallowing the Listerine with nothing to eat since breakfast had been a bad plan after all. "Al—"

Al's hand came up, taking David's chin. "So you're allowed to use nicks and I'm not now? That it?" The bastard still talked like this was funny, his grin only growing as he put one knee up on the sofa so he could lean over David. 

David had the sudden realization that he knew exactly where this was going, and that no matter if he was in the mood for it or not--which he wasn't-- he was going to have to shut it down fast. "I puked like five minutes ago."

Or at least try.

"That's what the mouth wash was for." Al paused, then grinned. "Davey."

He'd been on a fucking date a few hours ago. A date with a nice sweet space alien robot who could have been under six feet of rubble as Al slid his other hand up the front of David's shirt. 

David gave a weak shove but Al gently, but firmly, took hold of his wrist. "Thinking about this got me through years of Hell."

Al had never done anything when David didn't want it before. David just had to tell him to stop. He just had to say it. It'd work. Al'd stop. Just open his mouth, form the words. Just—

The robot moved.

David didn't see it happen, but one moment the weight of Al pressed down on his chest, then the next he was yanked back by a metal thing that was probably a hand.

Slowly, slowly, Al turned his head to the hand on his shoulder.

Finally David found his damn voice, even if he knew it was too late to do any good. "Al, don't—"

Whatever metal alien robots used to make hands, it melted easily enough in Al's flames.

*

They had been created differently than most, due to their special mission. There would be so few of them. Only thirty two in total. They would not have the sheer bulk of numbers needed to create normal social bonds. 

They would have to be more independent. This was acceptable, as they would never return home, and thus their difference could cause no disruptions.

The death of a single unit in Jules's home was not to be mourned, other than as a loss to the whole. But his team had been made differently, their whole was much smaller, and now one eighth lay dead before him. Jules had no context for what his response should be.

"Gerald's password was 'password,' thus I was able to access the department's shared network," said Falcon X. "These bodies were discovered off the Grafvitni coast by a fishing vessel, as well as the remains of similar pods as the ones you were found in. I assume the research department's conclusion that these are same species as you are is correct?" 

"Yes," said Jules. "That is correct."

They had been found and yet Jules had not been informed. He had been actively disallowed access to where they had been held. Why? It was clear there was a faction within the JHQ that considered him a threat, was that the reason? This segued into another disturbing thought: If the King of Mu had been Jules' protector, with him removed, said faction would be free to dispose of him.

If the King was not returned to power, Jules would likely have to leave. The city, or even the country. The sheer size of that task only added to the growing hollow feeling inside his body. Jules barely understood the transit system of the city. How to leave the island itself was difficult to comprehend. 

What was he to do?

The need to find his comrades was priority. He would focus on that.

Also, perhaps finding David would also tend to the issue of the King's disappearance. David was much more knowledgeable about these things. Perhaps he would know what to do. David had been quite good at navigating the subway system, after all.

"I suppose it is an obvious observation that they look nothing like you." Falcon X appeared to be taking photographs with his phone. "How did you acquire your humanoid form?"

"The pods they were discovered in contain technology that transform the body over time," replied Jules.

The pods were not in the room. It did not matter. The only use they could be now would be as points of geographical data to try and compute possible landing points for the twenty six others that remained unaccounted for. 

"To be able to change a form so completely is a very advanced procedure, although that is nothing compared to interstellar travel."

"Yes."

Falcon X inclined his head slightly. It was a gesture that indicated interest. "How do the pods work?"

"I do not know." These four were dead. There was nothing Jules could do for them, or them for him. 

"You do not know how your own technology functions?" Falcon X's expression was similar to one David tended to make, although Jules found he did not like it as much in this context.

"No." The technology for both the transformation of their bodies and the interstellar travel Falcon X had mentioned were not created by his species. They had merely utilized it for this expedition. However, even with the amount Falcon X had aided him, Jules did not feel the same compulsion to share more knowledge that he tended to experience with David. "Thank you for helping me but I would be uncomfortable discussing this matter further, and I must now try to find David."

"You plan to go after him." The way Falcon X inflected, it did not sound like a question. "Yet do you know where he is being held."

"No," admitted Jules. "But I must try to retrieve him. If there was tracking software in my phone, would the same be true for his?"

"David's phone was recovered from what remained of the mall's restrooms." Falcon X said, gesturing towards the door. "But you are correct that we should leave. However, I have one further question. Consider it payment for my aiding you: why, if you did not know that your fellows were here, did you wish to gain access to the labs?"

"I wanted to enter the labs because design of recent robot attackers were similar to my species when un-altered," said Jules, his hands resting but not yet pressing into the steel slab tabletop. "I believe a member of my cohort has been captured and enslaved by the same group who has manufactured these robots, as they likely used them as the basis for their design change."

Falcon X nodded. "Yes, the recent types of robots have been physically different than those used in previous years."

"And these same people now have taken David," continued Jules. "However, while I thank you for allowing me to know the fate of these four, unfortunately I do not believe this will help discover to current location of David or my fifth cohort."

"No, they won't." Falcon X began towards the door they had entered in. "But we were unlikely to have such an excellent chance to enter the labs unaccompanied so I chose to make use of the occasion. I also wished to see these aliens with my own eyes. Your species is curious."

Jules quickly followed. "It is very different than humans. Does that bother you?"

"Does it bother your David?"

A strange question, but humans did seem to want to know the opinion of others before letting their own become known. Yet, Falcon X had never seemed to have a swayable character before. In fact, Jules could not recall ever having enough exchange of words to qualify as a conversation with the man previously. "He has stated it does not. I would like to believe him."

"I have read the existent reports on your species." Falcon X led them quickly back to the entrance. "A member of a super organism, even one as complex as yourself, should not be able to survive as an individual."

Jules had accepted that any information he told David could be leaked, especially when one had the ability to access information such as the King did. Still, the thought made Jules feel displeasure. Irrational, but he could not stop it. Deterioration of emotional control was even more alarming, so he flattened his voice to neutrality. "I was not alone. It is not the same, but David, and even less close social bonds, have been invaluable to my survival." 

Falcon X stared at him with that unnerving gaze that seemed able to see through skin. Then he said: "David Morel has a tracker implanted in his thigh. While you were examining your compatriots I was able to obtain access to the network. The Prince seems to be in same location. Tell me, are you familiar with the idiom 'to kill two birds with one stone?"

*

"I did not agree to any of this!" Prince Martis Caelestis the 3rd was flushed, sweat causing his hair to cling to his forehead. "You—you can't just do this!"

David couldn't completely blame him considering the circumstances. This was very generous of David as he was now tied to the second couch of the day, the last having turned out to be quite flammable. The dusty fabric stank of old cigarettes and to see what was going on David had to shove his face into it so he could get a glance at the ceiling. 

The ceiling was a low mirror, the walls painted concrete, and the carpet had probably been eye-searing a few decades ago, but all of it was coated in a thick layer of grime and neglect. The main action was blocked by a thick wall of abandoned slot machines, which was David's biggest clue that they were in a casino. Well, that and the carpet. 

Abandoned buildings like this were a dime a dozen after the boom of the 60s had turned into a bust. 

'We'll get tourists!' the government had said. 'Entertainment zone building contracts for all!'

'It's too damn cold!' the tourists had said.

'Only most of the year!' the government had said.

Speaking of cold, the place was freezing. David's jacket was tied around his waist and a dress shirt was not cutting it. Plus a ring shaped hunk of depression was biting into his hip. 

Al had fiddled with the ring a bit, but then he'd looked away, and put it in David's coat pocket 'so he wouldn't get lost.'

But the mirrored ceiling, although fluffy with dust, was giving him a bird's eye view of the weak link in these guys' coup plans.

"It was imperative that you know nothing of the plan, due to you father's abilities," some suit said the last word with all the vehemence someone trying to plot assassination when the target could read minds deserved. He sounded vaguely familiar in a 'he probably worked at the JHQ in a different department than David' kind of way.

There was a whole gaggle of people like that around the prince. Suits that kinda looked familiar. How had they all managed to avoid the King?

"Do I even get a say in this?! Yes I hate the son of a bitch, but if I wait twenty years it won't matter!"

Wow, that was way more sense than David had ever given the guy credit for. Maybe he wasn't a total loss.

Al leaned back, arms crossed, looking like he wanted to kill off half the royal family instead of just a fifth.

David hoped the wife and kids were having a good time in Dubai. The place had always sounded worse then Mu in terms of city planning but hey, no snow. David had never seen a desert (well, a hot one) but they sounded neat. Sand. Sand was okay. Probably.

David paused to wonder what type of pain killers Al had managed to scrape up for him. It had been injected. David was quite possibly just a tad, what was the term? Oh yes. Loopier than a Spirograph in the hands of a bored child. 

He lolled his head to glance at the robot. Its arm had congealed pretty quick. Was congealed the right word? Did metal do that? Was that really metal?

It didn't look in pain. But it also didn't have a face, so who knew?

David had tried to stop Al, but it hadn't helped worth shit. Even with the drugs he could feel shame enough for that. If this thing was like Jules, then it didn't deserve any of this bullshit. David had fucked his life up enough that he deserved whatever came of this. But this guy, it just had shit luck.

There was some tech flunky beside it wrangling wires. He was dressed in the classic Canadian tuxedo of jeans, jeans, and jeans. He also had a backwards baseball cap. Which was made of jeans. 

"Is it gonna be okay?" David asked.

Jean Guy glanced up with that bleary look of someone who didn't know why they were being talked to and didn't like it. "What? This thing can take more than that. It'll re-form the hand if it has long enough."

"Oh," said David. "That's good."

"Yeah, good, sure." Then his head was back down to his phone. Tap tap slide. A cord went from the phone to the robot. So that was how they were controlling it? Some program they had on a jailbroke iPhone? Was that an iPhone? Smartphones tended to blur together. This one had a metallic case. It was a metallic case phone. 

Then the guy glanced up again, his hand stopping. "In the meantime I have to fix the mess. Your damn boyfriend ordered it to look after you or something. Now it's started overreaching."

That was both incorrect and uncalled for. "He's not—"

"Right, sure, yeah, I forgot, you're banging the alien instead" he said before stopping to fiddle more. 

David sort of grumbled an annoyed noise. Technically that was incorrect. There hadn't been any banging. Now there never would be any banging.

"You know, I've been deep in this thing's programming." Jean Guy banged the side of the robot's leg with his phone. "These things are made to constantly transmit to each other over wireless. Was a bitch to get it to function with nothing to pick up."

That, wasn't a surprise based of what Jules' had let on, but was still depressing as fuck. "Maybe it'd work better if you weren’t hacking around its brain."

"Brain?" Jean guy scoffed. "This doesn't have a real brain, it's not—these things are some sort of hive-mind, like the Borg, or bees or--"

Maybe it was the drugs, because David's first reaction to that was just pure pettiness. "So I bagged Seven of Nine, and you're jealous?"

"It's not like that!" The jerk paused again to type something into his phone. "I mean these things can't care about humans, it's nuts to think they can. It's a closed circuit. Just stick with psycho gangster and if you need to spice up the bedroom, buy one of those Lilybots from Japan. They don't talk back." 

It was so easy to slip back into old habits now that Al was back. Maybe he could just mouth off until someone shut him up. "Is that a personal product review?" 

"Fuck you." The tech jerked his head towards the rows of slot machines that hid Al. "That guy's nuts, but at least he's from the same planet. I'm not the weirdo here."

"That's your criteria?" David replied, his voice went down in volume as the yelling on the other side of the stacks dimmed. "Not being a space alien?"

Jean Guy shrugged and kept tapping. "Humanity, rah." 

That was a low bar. Well, Jules may have been a space alien but unlike most of the humans David knew he could fucking multi-task a conversation while using his phone. Plus he hadn't blown up over two hundred people. And shot a few dozen more. Or abandoned David.

At least, he hadn't yet.

This didn't count.

Jules wasn't going to come save him, but it didn't count.

Ah, the Prince was yelling again. David looked up to see him pointing dangerously at Al. Which.

Oh.

Right. Fucking Hell.

"And for you lot to even dare suggest I ally myself with this bastard?! You know what he did! He—" You could see, even though the grime, the backwards reflection, the shit lighting, right when the truth dawned on the Prince. It was his posture shifting from anger to a straightening up. A backing off of shock. Then anger again, tenfold with a new fury David couldn't fault him for at all. 

If Al was working with these fucks now, then had he been working for them when he'd blown up downtown eleven years ago?

Eleven years ago when he'd killed one hundred and forty seven people.

"You dare to think I would align with the traitors that murdered my own mother?!"

Plus one.

Hell, these fuckers were idiots. What had Al been thinking? No money could have been worth this much suffering fools for him. Even if they'd put him back together again after the explosion, what the hell could they possibly have to keep him around now? Al had never had loyalty. Not to anyone except—

Al flipped the Prince off. 

There was a sharp, gurgle of a high pitched noise. David's gaze jerked towards sudden movement on the ceiling, realising as he did that it had come from the Prince.

The Prince who then fell to the ground in a pile.

No one moved for a moment, an odd and fragile silence.

Then Al pushed off the machine he was leaning on and gestured to the suit nearest to him. "Uh, you do that?"

"No," said the suit, who paled under his sunglasses. Maybe. The mirror was kinda grimy.

But for sure Prince did not move.

That was when a clump of dust hit David in the face. As he had been staring at the images in the mirror it got him right in the eyes. He blinked, coughed, then realized. 

This was an old-ass casino. Old enough it'd been built before security cameras. Old enough the only way to make the place a panopticon was to use a mirror ceiling. 

A one way mirror ceiling.

"He's just unconci—" The suit's check of the Prince cut off, but this time there was enough blood David was pretty sure he wasn't on the list to be taken alive.

Another clump fell.

So did another suit.

Al jumped out of David's view into some slots for cover, 'cause he a bit smarter.

"They're in the ceiling!" David called out as the repair guy decided to book it. Fuck it. Old habits died hard. 

"Figured that one out, but thanks, babe!" Died even harder than Al.

David however, was a nice big target tied to a couch. Strangely, out of everything, somehow he'd never been shot before. At least he was on drugs for it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe they'd leave his body and Jules would even get to know what had happened.

"Robot!" Al's voice called from somewhere in the muddle of slot machines, and could bullets go through those? Probably depended on the bullets. "Get David out of here!"

The robot was really quite fast. And strong. And big. Not very gentle though and wow, David managed to even feel his arm for a moment. 

Damn, he would have felt getting shot then. 

It was a big room, as casinos tended to prefer. Not as big as the new ones, no, but big enough, and a maze from the abandoned machines. The robot kicked one down, only for it to smash into another it had been stacked against and cause a stack of chairs to topple besides. A bullet pinged off its head. It turned a corner. Maze. Another. Maze. Some stacks of tables. Maze.

They hit a corner, where the tech from before was huddling under the ruins of something that might have been a bar once.

"Jesus!" He hissed. "Don't lead them over here!"

Well, not like David could have expected camaraderie.

Indeed the shooting that had left them behind started back towards them as—

Oh there was Al. "Ah, just great. No door when you need one."

It was starting to look like their best bet would be if the assassins tripped off the catwalk and fell through the glass.

Some glass did shatter, but that was just Al shooting back. "It's the King's dogs. Saw them grab the brat. If we can get out they might not care enough to clean the scraps. Robot, make a door."

"Hey, wait a—" David was shifted rather roughly onto a possible shoulder and oh yeah, maybe the drugs were wearing down because he felt that too.

With another arm, the robot punched the wall. 

The ripple of force shook David's bones, but not much else. What the fuck, this wore off this fast. This was bullshit.

"Aw heck they reinforced the walls." Al grabbed another clip from his jacket and re-loaded.   
And around the corner of junk came a guy in all black combat gear, a helmet, and a semi. One of the King's men. Did David know who was under there? Was it the grass guy, probably on his first real blow up? "Hands up!"

Yeah, they were probably fucked.

Al just shrugged, and started to raise his arms—

David braced for whatever he was about to pull.

\--Grabbed Jean Guy. Flung him in front of himself as he lowered the gun to fire—

Fuck.

The agent fired. Al fired.

Jean Guy screamed. Then didn't. So did the agent. 

David let himself get carried as the robot huddled over him and bounded behind Al and his shield.

David didn't see much else for a while. His head was somewhere up the robot's armpit, but they burst through a door into some sort of service hallway, rounded a twist or two—

"Stop!"

That voice, David recognized no problem.

"Hello," said Jules. "I am here to save you."

But unless Jules was able to identify David from his incredibly flat ass, it wasn't him Jules said it to.


	7. Chapter 7

Frog 10:42:22 PM  
Meet you there. King's guards coming too. For the prince.  
Frog 10:42:59  
Wear a helmet.

Unfortunately the portions of Jules' uniform Falcon X had managed to procure on the way to the garage did not include protective headgear. He informed Frog of such and also wished her a safe mission.

Frog 10:44:02  
Then duck.

"Unfortunate news," said Falcon X, steering the automobile through dangerously icy streets with inadequate lighting. "Stealth would be better if we wish to save David as well as deal with your kin. The Nautilus Guard will most certainly have orders to kill all but the Prince, and even him if he resists."

Falcon X looked away from the road to study Jules' costume. Dangerous, no matter how quickly he completed his assessment. "Bonnie is right. After all this is over, we will have to introduce you to her tailor."

Falcon X's own costume was practical both in its durable materials, and in that the design clearly displayed his alignment with Pink Falcon and Little Pink through use of colour accents and in being an augmentation of business wear. While his suit was black, the false blouse was Pink Falcon's copyrighted shade of pink, as was the tie. Pink Falcon had once explained the concept as 'attention getting, but subtle. Also no capes.' 

While much contrasting with Falcon X's suit, Jules did not see what was insufficient about his own uniform. It was made of similar stretchable fire and bullet resistant materials. But, perhaps it was an aesthetic issue. Jules still had difficulty with the concept. What made Falcon X's suit design more 'stylish' than, for example, David's? 

Falcon X parked the car on the other side of an abandoned building that cornered the one both the Prince and David's tacker signals emanated from. It was large and concrete, as much architecture in the city seemed to be. Earth reportedly had a great amount of renewable organic building material but this land rarely seemed to use it for more than decoration.

The grey snow that piled up against the outside walls seemed to almost be holding it together. The concrete was missing many chunks, and what remained was as stained as the snow. At the top, metal and glass stuck out in what may have once been ornamentation. 

Falcon X held out an arm before they left the shadows of the building's skeleton. "Avoid any of the guard you may encounter."

"You will not be accompanying me?"

"From a distance," replied Falcon X. "Securing the freedom of your kin will require more than simply fighting him head on. I will attempt to disrupt the method they are using to control him."

Falcon X had already shown to have far more knowledge of Jules' species than he should have, but this was beginning to go further than Jules could put down to having access to the laboratory's research. "How do you know how to do that?"

Falcon X turned to him then. "If you survive this, then I will tell you. Let that be additional motivation."

Jules was so close to rescuing both David and the robot he knew. If Falcon X would continue to aid him, Jules had to allow him to do so. Any further investigation paled in comparison to obtaining his goals. However, suspicion and curiosity was becoming impossible to ignore. "Is the King of Mu able to read your mind?"

The corners of Falcon X's mouth turned up, but Jules would not have classified it as a smile. "No."

Then he touched his phone to Jules', and the location of David beeped onto the screen. 

David was very close. Close enough that Jules could ignore the mystery of Falcon X for the amount of time it would take to rescue him. "Then I will ask again once David and the enslaved member of my species are safe."

The closest door had already been forced open. With no prior knowledge of the building's layout, Jules had to be particularly careful. More so once he heard noise indicating that the attack had already begun. He had to be careful, yet also quick. If David were to be caught in the crossfire—

There were many possibilities Jules forcibly ignored as he jogged through the dilapidated corridors. He focussed instead on the indicator on his phone screen.

There was also an increase in noise ahead. He was about to intercept.

Perhaps it would be best to make his intentions as clear as possible in case of any misunderstandings. David had previously shown himself capable with a weapon and it would not do to be shot upon reunion. David would likely feel bad. Thus as he turned the corner he shouted. "Stop!"

The robot he knew took up much of the corridor. In its grip was presumably David. This was convenient. "Hello. I am here to save you."

However, behind and to the side of the robot was a man Jules had only previously seen in grayscale printouts and computer screens. Alberto Montebello aka Vulcan. David's previous lover. Well-known mass murderer. 

Incorrectly stated as deceased in all files Jules had studied.

Vulcan took aim and fired. 

This was the opposite of convenient. 

Jules heard David yell Vulcan's abbreviated given name as he dodged back behind the corner. The tone appeared displeased.

Good. The possibility that David would side with his former lover instead of Jules was as unpleasant as it was sudden.

Another sudden possibility. Was Vulcan here to rescue David as well? Perhaps they could be, most certainly temporary, allies?

"I know exactly who he is, Davey. That's why I'm shooting!"

It seemed not.

Was Vulcan one of those who had stolen David? Large scale explosions were a well-documented part of his repertoire. Involvement with robots as not, but that appeared to be the case now. The reports had, after all, been erroneous in other important aspects.

"I would like to request a temporary truce!" No shots came so Jules continued. "In exchange for allowing David and the robot beside you to leave with me, I will not attempt to apprehend you."

A shot did come as Jules peeked around the wall. "That's not a truce!"

Jules ducked back. It was difficult to modulate his voice correctly and project at the same time. "An exchange?"

Another string of shooting. Possibly Vulcan had additional packages of ammunition. "An exchange means you'd give me something back! I'd offer the bot but I doubt you’d keep your end once you had it!"

That was not an unreasonable assumption. If Jules had additional numbers, capture of Vulcan would be much easier. As the situation stood, Jules was not only outnumbered, but one of his opponents had a ranged weapon while Jules did not. They also had one to two hostages.

Would it have been best for Falcon X to come along after all? Or, perhaps what Jules really had to do was buy Falcon X enough time to carry out whatever mysterious plan he had been hinting at?

Vulcan's power was to extrude lava, and from that fire. Aside from that, he had no particularly dangerous abilities. In another setting it would not have been difficult to disarm him by using Jules' speed to his advantage. However, if Jules had to also contend with the robot he knew, then Jules could not foresee victory.

He would need to think of a strategy. 

He attempted this.

Vulcan shot again.

It was possible Vulcan would run out of ammunition, but that would still leave the robot Jules knew.

"I'll take the big one." The voice behind Jules was easily identifiable, although Jules had rarely heard it. Frog preferred to communicate via text message. Over a distance. This was indeed a very serious situation.

"Please be careful. The robot has David as a hostage, and the robot is—" Jules had previously used a variety of terms to describe the relationship, but it was important now more than ever to express the importance of that relationship in a way a human would understand. "It is family."

Frog made a noise that usually meant agreement, then used her powers to launch herself at herself at the robot Jules knew.

This left Vulcan to Jules. He wasted several more shots on Frog before Jules reached him, only turning when it was too late to shoot as Jules toppled him with his arm. Jules had learned the proper term was a 'clothesline.' He didn’t quite understand why that was the name. But it worked.

Vulcan hit the floor hard. Too hard for the floor to take the impact and remain unbroken.

It was possible Jules should have taken the decay of the building into account. "Please remain still for moment—" Then again, Vulcan setting fire to the floor boards was not helping.

Jules was not fast enough in his retreat, thus he fell with Vulcan to the basement level. It did not harm him, but it unfortunately seemed to re-envigour Vulcan, who managed to hit Jules in the trunk, which, while not fatal, or even penetrating his protective garment, did hit with much force. As did the next, causing Jules to double over. 

While his uniform was flame-resistant, it was not fire-proof. This became an important distinction as Al closed the distance to punch him in the abdomen. The punch was not an issue, the lava was. 

Jules kicked Vulcan's kneecap. It made a snapping noise. Vulcan swore. Jules used the opportunity to gain space between them. This was hindered by a large concrete wall.

"Come on," said Vulcan. "I've seen you fight. You can do better than that, can't ya?"

"I am attempting to not unduly harm you," replied Jules. "Your being alive makes David sad, but your death would also make him sad. Maybe it would make him sadder. Therefore I must take you into custody alive."

There was little room. Dodging the next shot led Jules to a corner. The door and stairs were now behind Vulcan. "It would be helpful if you would co-operate."

"Co-operate?" Vulcan needlessly repeated, closing in. "What? You'd play nice and share Davey?"

"If that is what he wanted." Jules' back hit the concrete. His kick had damaged Vulcan's knee enough that the man was limping. If he were to kick again and break the other knee completely, would that be considered too much damage? 

Vulcan hummed. Jules had heard David make a similar noise while he was considering options. Then, he held out the hand that did not wield the gun. "You see, that's more like it for a truce. Find common ground and all that bullshit, right?"

Oh. A handshake. A traditional method of making a deal. Jules hesitated, for a moment. "You will most likely be imprisoned for a long time."

Vulcan's grip was burning hot and did not let go. "You're a sweet one aren't ya?" The barrel of a gun pressed into the juncture between Jules' chin and neck. "Stupid, but sweet."

At such close range the weapon could do permanent damage. Jules attempted to wiggle away but only found a hand pressing him roughly against the concrete wall, singeing what was left of his uniform. "If you kill me then David—"

"Yeah, Davey's got strange taste lately." With the barrel of the gun Vulcan forced Jules' face to one side then the other. "Seriously? A goddamn pretty boy like you?"

The hand was on Jules' chest, patting down in what he knew for certain was inappropriate behaviour. 

"Even if you kill me to escape, The Frog has most likely succeeded in—" the end of his sentence was cut off by his inability to articulate as Vulcan's hand burned against his abdominal section.

"Huh," said Vulcan, now grinning, not, as far as Jules could discern, in joy, yet showing many teeth. "I guess I can get it. The super strength probably helped. With what I've seen you could bench press me. Too bad you're not fire-proof."

"My reasoning concerning David being upset goes both ways. If you kill me—" Again he was cut off by Vulcan's powers eating away at his flesh. Only Vulcan's other hand kept Jules upright as pain overrode self-preservation. 

Smugness, that's what it was. Vulcan looked smug. "Davey'll be sad, maybe, but he'll forgive me. He always does."

*

The Frog's style of fighting was notoriously indelicate. She had force-fields. She could launch herself at great speed. Nuts to anyone on the other end.

Like David.

The drugs were totally wearing off, he thought as he thumped to the floor on his broken arm. David rolled onto his good one just in time to see the robot get kicked through a wall. Sort of. His glasses were petty fucked at this point.

His first "Hey" came out a bit weak so he rallied for a second go. "Hey! Don't kill it!"

Just as he yelled the warning the robot jerked itself back, then fell forward, completely still.

"Is it okay?" ventured David.

Frog shrugged. Then checked her phone. She held the screen up towards David.

"I can't read that," he said from the floor.

Frog almost certainly huffed at him but it was hard to tell with the ridiculous helmet. There was really something extra in being looked down on by a cartoon frog. "Falcon X fixed it."

The robot? Falcon X? "What?"

Frog's rude gesture got cut short by someone shooting at them.

Oh right, those bastards. 

Frog held up the patch on her forearm that identified her status. Free to roam. Do whatever she wanted. Answerable only to the King himself. Most people just need to see the frog helmet to remember that but, well.

The men in tactical gear paused for a moment, looked at each other. Then resumed fire.

Force fields really were a useful power. Too bad they only covered the area around Frog.

David rolled his way to the comparative safety of the downed robot's bulk. Frog could take these guys, whatever their deal was, but Jules had followed Al into a damn hole and who knew what trouble was going on down there. 

Jules was durable.

But Al was too.

David was pretty sure he could smell fresh smoke, and that horrible unforgettable stench of burning flesh.

Even with the painkillers fading out David could get himself to a crouch with enough motivation. Seeing a gun bounce across the floor sealed the deal.

One last breath to ignore the arm and the fact he had as much a chance at getting shot as reaching the hole, then he ran. Grabbed the gun with his not-shit arm. Slid on broken wood slats which was never a great idea. He probably still would have looked cool if it hadn't ended with him toppling through the hole and landing on his ass. 

The sound of a scuffle was what got him able to force himself to a stand and ready the borrowed gun. There wasn't much light, and that caused by Al's fire wasn't so useful. Or maybe David was just having trouble focusing.

He tightened out the wobble in his grip as he saw Al pinning Jules to the wall. The burning flesh smell, it was coming from Jules. "Al!"

"Davey..." The end of the nickname trailed off at about the same speed Al seemed to realise which one of them David was pointing the gun at. 

The place was getting smokier by the second. Pretty soon it would be legitimately on fire. "Let him go, Al." 

"Seriously, Davey? Raising a gun at me over some pretty boy?" The voice was cocky, loud, and maybe someone else wouldn’t hear the break in it, but David did.

"It's not about that—"

Al slammed Jules against the concrete with a sick sizzle. "The fuck it's not about him! Put the gun down!"

"No." So this was it. Over. Because ten years ago David may have thought that while Al hurt other people, he'd always be there for David. 

And Al had confessed, when he was damn sure no one was around to hear, that it went both ways. 

How did someone get over that trust being broken?

Lava leaked out of the gash on Al's face, catching fire once it hit fabric. "C'mon Davey, don't do this. Please. "

Not very damn well.

"You killed too many people Al." David gripped the gun tighter to keep the shaking down. "And the thing is, you didn't learn a damn thing from it." 

Once, Al had managed to drink even more than David and ended up sobbing into David's stomach that David was the only one who didn't think he was a monster.

And David had just thought that he didn't care either way. Because even if Al was a monster, he was David's monster.

But that had been ten years ago and David had grown the fuck up. 

So now it was his turn to rip out Al's heart, because David couldn't let him kill anyone else. Especially not Jules. Jules didn't deserve to be caught up in any of this shit. He probably wasn't as pure and innocent as he seemed, because no one was. Not really. Maybe he'd turn out to be another terrible character judgement on David's part someday. But it was still true that right now, he didn't deserve this bullshit. 

"Just let him go, Al. Please."

It was harder and harder for David to see but maybe the arm that held Jules against the wall shook a little. Whatever happened, it was enough for Jules to kick Al in the crotch. Al's gun went off. So did David's.

David shouted something, but even he wasn't really sure what. Suddenly there was a lot of blood. From somewhere. Then a cascade of concrete burst. That was wall beside Al as the robot crashed through. 

Despite everything, David could not help but be reminded of the Kool-Aid man.

Then he dropped like a lump to the ground, because it turned out he'd been one of the ones shot.

Oh.

Well shit, that was what it was like.

The smoke smell got worse. There was a heck of a lot of yelling. The place was definitely on fire now. Al had shot him.

Someone grabbed him.

"Your pupils are too small for this light level," said Jules, removing David's glasses.

"Oh good," David slurred as he tried to get a focus on Jules' own eyes. They seemed kinda big. But he was in blur-mode now. "You're okay?"

Jules frowned. Honest to god frowned like it was the most natural thing in the world. "That is not good, that is bad. But yes, my injuries are not fatal."

"But you were on fire." Not fatal wasn't really the same thing as okay, but when David tried to say that he felt bubbles in his mouth. Tickly.

"It is merely painful, my body can adjust. We need to leave immediately." That second sentence was said to someone else. The robot? Did that mean the robot was okay too? That was good.

A sharp jerk of pain took a few seconds out of David. Next he knew he was being carried by the robot again and Jules was murmuring something he couldn't understand. Also the place was even more on fire.

"Hey." David tried to raise his head but immediately regretted it. "Where's Al?"

Either David blacked out again or it took Jules a while to answer. "I do not know."

"Okay," said David. "Okay."

Then he blacked out properly, only coming too with a lurch as he was loaded into some car. Someone was talking about medical attention, and how the robot was going to fit.

"He can become compact." Oh, that was Jules.

"The suspension is going to—" That was. Someone. Someone wearing a lot of pink. 

There was squishing. A little clanking. Large amounts of pain. David ended up mostly on top of the robot who really did get quite compact. Jules was half on top of him. Maybe more than half. About three quarters. 

Was the car on? It sounded like the car was on. Oh, they hit a bump.

"David," said Jules, shoving part of a suit jacket against David's chest. "Do you know the names of the drugs they gave you?"

The robot sort of moved under David and some sort of limb replaced Jules' hand pressing the suit down. Jules's moved to hold David's face in his hands.

"It's okay," said David. Maybe. He was pretty sure he was slurring at this point. How embarrassing. "It's okay."

"Yes." David could at least make out Jules nodding his head, sharp, frantic. "You will be okay. Your wounds are fixable as long as we reach medical facilities quickly." 

"Okay." That was a big if. Traffic could be molasses and David had no idea what time it was. Or even where the fuck they were in the city. Whatever, it was fine. "You got your space buddy now, so it's okay." 

Everything was okay. Even if David kicked the bucket, even if he didn't, Jules had rescued one of his space friends. He wasn't going to be alone. He wouldn't need David to stick around. So it was fine if he didn't. His job was over. Jules could be safely handed off to someone capable.

So maybe it was selfish to grab Jules by the side of the head and pull him down as Jules said, strangely high pitched: "It is not okay!"

David passed out before it could really be called a kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

The connection Jules had longed for, that had consumed his wants for so long stood beside him, helped him carry David from the car to the medical wing of the Justice Headquarters. Yet Jules felt nothing. 

No relief. No happiness. No completeness. 

They were unable to connect how they should. Whether it was due to Jules' humanoid form's continued transformation, or what the kidnappers had done to his kin in order to control it, even the unpleasant communication over touch was now broken, fractured. Only incomplete fragments of ideas could be transmitted. 

His kin could no longer communicate verbally in this mutilated form. Jules had no other way to receive information.

Jules did not know how to feel at this and thus attempted to feel nothing.

It inquired endlessly about Jules' own injuries. It apologised for its own. It had no smell but for that of metal and electricity. It had no sound but the hum and movement of its parts. Its movements were clumsy in a way that meant they were barely controlled. They held each other, but had no true connection.

It was likely as upset as Jules, but this was simply reasonable conjecture. 

Its mental state had unfortunately taken even far greater damage over the course of their separation. It repeated its concerns endlessly. Would Jules be fixable? Would it be fixable? Where were the others? Apologies. Repeat. 

It asked if the human Jules and Vulcan had fought over would survive.

"David will not die," said Jules.

Frog's helmet twitched slightly towards him, then went back to looking ahead.

Due to the nature of their work, both Falcon X and Frog were familiar with navigating quickly to the express medical win of the Justice Headquarters. Why the facility was so far from the car garage, Jules did not know. Here Jules was forced to hand off David's unconscious body to the medical personnel. Frog went with him, which was almost a comfort.

One such personnel glanced at Jules's chest. "Do you want that patched up as well?"

"No," Jules said quickly. "The damage is mostly superficial. It will repair itself."

The medical attendant glared at him. "Okay then get the fuck out."

Falcon X raised his eyebrows, which Jules assumed in this context was meant as disapproval, amusement, or a combination of the two. However Falcon X's use of sunglasses even indoors make this even more difficult to discern. "That went wonderfully. To the labs then?"

Jules hesitated, and the grip on his hand tightened. "The laboratory is—"

"The location of the pods that your compatriot will require to assume a humanoid form, and will hasten your own repairs." Falcon X led them once more into the cold concrete hallways. "Unless you'd prefer a long recuperation resulting in scarring over your entire front? I warn you, keloids on such a scale would become an inconvenience to movement."

Jules lightly touched the gooey surface of his abdominal area and registered more waves of concern. His wounds hurt, but in a distant way. It was as if all the world was behind a thick panel of glass. Jules knew he had to tend to his injuries, do many things, but where there should have been need, motivation, he felt only emptiness. Perhaps this was a symptom of greater damage.

Falcon X waved his phone without turning back towards them. "It appears the coup was a complete failure."

With his free arm Jules retrieved his own phone.

King Of Mu: Terribly sorry about that. Seems I need to be a bit more hands on when it comes to the IT boys. The laboratory should be all yours for the time being. I would give our new guest a personal welcome but I am quite busy doing housecleaning.

Jules had no idea what the King meant by this. Was the King implying that he had not known what the laboratory had contained? If so, was that the truth? Still, he replied, as it would have been rude not to. The King had, as Jules reminded himself, only ever aided Jules, and he would need to continue to rely on that aid.

Jules: Thank you. I am glad you are well.

His hand shook against the metal limb of his companion. It clenched tight enough to restrict blood flow.

This time there was no one at the entrance to the laboratory. 

"We have a lot of work to do," said Falcon X. "Do you even know how to turn these on?"

Jules did not. 

"I suggest your compatriot goes in this one. It will require the most finesse." With every touch of Falcon X's hands the pod vibrated and made more noise. Never reaching more than a low hum, but enough to indicate he was doing something. Something Jules could not follow. It had been his knowledge that the pods worked automatically. "Does it have a preference?" 

"Preference for what?" Jules asked in his companion's stead.

"Sex, race, age, other," replied Falcon X, suddenly more animated than Jules had seen before. It took thought to guess, but perhaps--Was he having fun? "The pod has collected a vast amount of material to work with. I could create almost any combination."

Jules felt mostly confusion and more concern. He looked to where the main visual receptors should have been, although he was unsure if those too had been displaced. "It would likely be most convenient for the two of us to look similar." It would re-enforced the idea of them being family, which would be the easiest way to explain their relationship who did not know otherwise. No one seemed to think it odd that Pink Falcon and Little Pink spent so much time together. 

The surprising energy Falcon X had exuded ceased. "That is incredibly boring, but if it's what you wish, it will be simple enough. Put it in the pod."

More concern. Confusion. Hesitation. It did not want to go into the pod. 

"You will be fine," said Jules, making his grip tighter, then corrected himself. "No, it will be difficult, but it will become better than now. I will not let any more harm come to you." 

The words did not seem comforting to Jules even as he said them. They were only sounds carried on air. But it was all he had. It was all they both had. So that was what Jules would work with. "I will stay here until your transformation is complete. I will not leave you."

Perhaps it understood. That Jules could not know for certain was physically painful. 

"Once you have transformed sufficiently we will see David, and he will help you pick a name." Yes, David would help. David would know what to do next. He had helped Jules. He would help again. "You will like David."

If only David had not been hurt, if only he had been there now. The pain increased and Jules could not force it to cease. "He will be healed soon, and then he will help."

Perhaps it understood. It entered the pod. It was sealed in. Although his knowledge of the pods was clearly incomplete, Jules knew from experience they were extremely durable, and did their work well. They were safe.

Thus, it was time to act on his promise. Jules stood between Falcon X and the closest door. "Now you must tell me everything."

"Tell me, Jules, do you like animals?" Falcon X asked. "Plants?"

"Yes," replied Jules. Perhaps if he answered quickly Falcon X would return to the point. "There is an amazing variety of life on Earth. It is quite interesting."

But Falcon X's reply only brought more puzzlement. "Yes, it must seem that way compared to your own planet."

"I suppose," Jules replied, confusion being joined by irritation, and not only for Falcon X's tangent being irrelevant. Was this what David had meant when he complained of Jules insulting humans?

Falcon X only continued. "Are you familiar with the term ecological collapse?"

"Yes—"

Falcon X cut him off. "I certainly hope so as that is what your species has done to your own planet."

"We are not—" A surge of defensiveness clouded all other concerns, and caution. "Although precarious due to recent events, the food system is stable and—"

Again Falcon X interrupted. "The 'food system' for your own species, and those it needs, but no other. Were one link in this chain to be destroyed all others would crumble. Your species is doomed unless it colonizes and destroys other planets."

"That is untrue." Moreover it was information no one on Earth should have known. "What are you?"

Falcon X slightly inclined his head, as if in a nod, but not. "I do not think your species knows our name, although you have certainly made an interesting mash of our technology."

"You are—" But Jules did not know how to properly translate the name to English, nor any other human language. It was not a complex term, in his own manner of communication, but the sheer required volume of displeasure, of fear, the stench of hatred, was impossible to transmit in his current form.

Falcon X however, seemed un-affected at all by Jules' reaction. "When your planet was discovered, the dominant species was determined to be of limited intellect, and if allowed to spread across the universe, a danger to any it encountered. Are you familiar with the Earth species called locusts?"

Jules had blocked the door, but now he realised his mistake at trusting Falcon X at all. He had assumed the pods safe if Falcon X was a human who had done much research, but they could not be safe if he was an enemy more familiar with them than Jules could ever be.

In Jules' pocket was his cellphone. If he requested help-- 

But Falcon X, although not as fast as Pink Falcon, was faster than Jules. For the second time in a day he was slammed against a wall and restrained. "I would prefer that this conversation remain private, and civil. Now, perhaps instead of locusts we use ants as our metaphor. Your friend David requested the importation of Linepithema humile, I assume on your behalf."

David—His kin in the pod was not the only one Jules had to fear for. "Please leave David alone."

The edges of Falcon X's mouth turned down. "The humans are violent, uncontrollable, but interesting, and not unsimilar to our own long ago. Although dangerous if they were to leave Earth, they cannot. I was sent here to observe, similar to the excuse you gave to upon your arrival. Now, if they were to, like an invasive ants species, leave Earth and—"

"My species has never invaded another planet!" Jules attempted to push off of the wall. If he reached the pod, then perhaps he could open it. If he called for help, perhaps it would come. If not, at least he could give warning. 

Falcon X slammed him back, taking advantage of Jules' new wounds to debilitate. He was completely frowning now. "Only because you have not yet had the means to. Now you do. That is our mistake, and if necessary it will be corrected. Stop interrupting and listen to me." 

Jules frowned back, knowing he had little choice.

"Good." Falcon X's expression smoothed back into its normal neutrality. "The difference between your species and the humans is simple. Humans are similar to what our civilization once was. Yours is supposed to be a hive-mind with barely any developed personality or true intellect. You, Jules, have contradicted all reports. Personally, I find that very disturbing."

There was a lull. After a long while Jules realised he was now meant to respond. "What do you mean by all this?"

That strange energy Falcon X had exhibited at the controls of the pod returned. "I have spent the previous few months having to explain why I should not kill you." 

That sounded good, but also bad at the same time. 

"I understand your confusion." Falcon X's hold loosened, but only enough for Jules to register that it had. "You have improved at facial expression, buy the way. You have had quite a lot of interesting development. If you were to return to your home planet, what would the hive make of you now?"

"Our mission was never meant to return, only to send information." 

"And have you been able to?"

There was no reason to lie now. "No." 

"Good." Again the hold loosened, but only an unusable amount. "You are stranded, completely cut off. You are, possibly, not a threat. My position is hereditary and gives some leeway. As long you do not represent the beginnings of an invasion force, and are instead merely bumbling explorers, it would be within my abilities to offer my protection. If you and your newfound companion co-operate it would be advantageous for the both of us."

Again, a pause that Jules realised was waiting for a response. "Why is that?"

"Bonnie and Rickie like you," Falcon X said, using the legal names of Pink Falcon and Little Pink. This time, Falcon X did release his hold completely. He took a step back as well.

Jules did not move. Nor did he give Falcon X the verbal cue he seemed to desire, for Falcon X frowned again before continuing.

"When I finally confirmed my suspicions on your origin, and informed Bonnie and her brother..." The sentence trailed off. "I was forced to sleep in my own Justice Headquarters issued room for a week before Rickie would speak to me, although Bonnie was kind enough to text various admonishments. I grudgingly made promises to see if your lost kin had been found." Falcon X gestured towards the pods. "Well, that is how I discovered all this."

Another pause continued until Falcon X eventually continued. "I have, of course, made sure to keep tabs on research done in Mu, as my others of my duty do elsewhere in the world. But I was having a boring and easy time of it until you came along."

"You see, Jules," Falcon X continued, "before this the King of Mu merely thought his inability to read my mind some part of my mysterious power. He had no belief in extraterrestrials. But now he may wonder. And, if you tell someone, say, your David, he may realise the truth about me as well."

This however, did warrant a response, if not the one Falcon X seemed to want. "But, if Falcon Pink and Little Pink have already known, then—"

"Everyone who works here long enough has their own methods for dealing with their King. Bonnie and Rickie simply brought back the cryptophasia, twin language, of their childhood," explained Falcon X. "They rarely use it except to annoy me and their monarch. Bonnie is a bit worried the press might dig into family drama if they think there's a story."

Jules had not done as much research on Pink Falcon and Little Pink's past as he had Daivd's. All he could recall was that they had re-located across many countries in their youth before settling in Mu, and that Bonnie frequently complained of visa troubles when she needed to travel for her career. 

"That is not a licence to look into the matter yourself." The displeasure of Falcon X's tone increased. "That was simply an explanation as to why David is a weak link in the chain while Bonnie and Rickie are not. I will aid you, but you nor any of your kin you find are allowed to tell any humans about what I am. This is one of my terms."

"What are the other terms?" Jules asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer. If he desired survival for him and his rescued kin he would have no choice but to agree to them.

"I'll send you the pdf," said Falcon X. "But before that, perhaps I should show you how to use the pods to heal extensive burn damage. I am curious myself how your biomechanical form has merged with the technology." 

*

When David forced his eyes open, already knowing from the feel of the IV and rough blanket that he was in the hospital, he gave himself a bit of time before looking away from the ceiling.

"Ah, good," said the King of Mu. "I was running out of magazines. No wonder they wanted more funding for subscriptions, these things are entirely ads. There's nothing to read!"

"Wha," was about all David got out. His throat was dry but at least he didn't have a damned breathing tube. Fuck those things.

The King sighed. "I'm buying the medical department a book club subscription. It will be a donation."

"Wh—" David coughed over the rest of the question but the King didn't need to hear to understand.

"Oh David," The King looked down on him, with a faint smile. "It wouldn't do for me to let you wake alone, would it?"

Oh. That was—

Okay.

"As for your extra-terrestrial paramour, he seems quite distressed at having to leave your side for so long but he is needed by his brother." The King paused. "Well, I believe that's what they've settled on. The transformation is taking more time than initially estimated."

Fuzziness snapped back into terrible detail. Al. Kidnapping. Kidnapping of the King? Al had been working for people trying to kill the King. Oh god. Obviously he wasn't dead but—

Al.

Al had shot David. Because he'd threatened to shoot Al. Because Al had almost killed Jules. Because Jules had tried to save David. Because—

David had really fucked up.

"Now, now, don't be like that. You aren't responsible for whether another adult's moral compass is working or not." The King flipped through another fashion magazine. "And yes, that applies to our dear alien friend as well. If ever he turns out to be planning a live re-enactment of War of The Worlds it will not have been your fault, for all I have encouraged your guidance in his navigation of his new life."

Maybe. Maybe that was true for Jules. Jules was a weird space alien, but a good weird space alien. Hell even the robot had seemed okay and it had been hacked into trying to overthrow the government. Maybe space robots were just nice. Al had been different. Al—

"No," said the King, placing a hand upon the top of David's head in a soft pat. "Don't think like that. Not even for a moment. I have seen more of people's true faces than anyone else, and even I have no answer on whether people are inherently good or evil, or if it is all circumstance. All I know for certain is that no man is responsible for another becoming a monster or not." He paused on a double spread of a woman's underwear ad, raising his bushy eye brows as he tilted the pages so David could see. "I tend to forget that myself sometimes, but I do hold myself to exceptionally high standards."

That was one way to put it.

The magazine snapped closed. The King stood. "I'm actually almost proud of little Marty. I would have bet good money on him jumping at a chance to take me out and not having to wait another handful of decades. Perhaps fences can be mended. I believe I will invite him to my next film admittance viewing."

Yeah that was going to end well. Fuck it who knew anymore, maybe it would. Maybe the Prince could stop hating his dad long enough to watch movies. The private theater's popcorn was pretty fucking good after all. Maybe they'd even get more blockbusters this summer. Everyone knew the Prince watched them when he was out of country.

"And David?" The magazine was set onto David's chest, over the light blue blankets. "Please try to stop getting injured. You're very valuable to me." 

After the King left David went back to staring at the popcorn ceiling for a while longer, then nudged the magazine with his good hand. A cellphone fell out. His cellphone. 

He put it on the table and read the magazine. The King had been right. There wasn't much to it.

It took until the next day for him to get booted. The nurses were worried about his cough, smoke inhalation, dinged lung, something, but he could breathe and walk around so out he went with a bottle of pain pills, a fresh cast, a little cardboard box with what was left of his old suit, and a long list of dos and don'ts. 

For example: Don't break your arm again. Seriously, stop.

David checked his phone and ignored every message except the one from Maria saying he wasn't supposed to go into work, that the budget would be fine, and if anyone texted him with questions about said budget he was to snitch on them immediately.

He slept a lot. Showered a bit. Ate the food that was mysteriously in his fridge, then ventured out to vending machines once that ran out. Did laundry. 

He read a few messages from Jules apologising for being unable to leave the labs. His companion was in a delicate state. They couldn't be left alone. There were a lot of other words and a few pictures of animals but somehow David ended up skimming. 

David: That's fine

He took his pills. He didn't drink. He lay in that haze between drugs and pain where everything was kinda floaty, but tight in his skin. He thought about buying a TV.

It wasn't long into the clean-up that they found Al's body. Some suit decided the person for an ID was David. So he hauled his ass down to the morgue he hadn't known the JHQ had, then stared at proof that this time, Al wasn't coming back.

David put the ring that had still been in his suitcoat pocket on the table and said: "That's the right guy. Burn this with him. Don't send me the ashes."

A coupon for a free coffee showed up on his phone soon after, sent by Frog. He went out, got about half way through, then dumped it in the bin and headed for the nearest liquor store. 

The rest of the night, well David didn't remember it, but there were a lot of messages from Jules and Frog on his phone the next morning. Jules' were heartfelt and rambling. Frogs were mostly 'animal vines for when you’re depressed af number whatever.'

There were even a few from Bonnie. What the fuck. They were all complaining about her ordeal at US customs and telling him to keep Falcon X in line (somehow) but still, what the fuck.

David watched some of the videos. Deleted a few replies to Jules. Rolled himself into the shower then into work.

He starred at his computer until Maria slid a paper underneath saying he was supposed to go home and charge his phone.

Somehow his battery had run out.

So he slept with his second-favourite suit on with his phone plugged into the wall, then awoke to even more messages. Most were from Jules. 

Jules. There had been that moment, right before David had passed out. Jules had acted like he'd come for him, not just his robot space buddy, and David had believed him. For a moment things had seemed—

But a moment meant nothing if nothing was what came after. 

Eventually, he forced down half a glass of water and tried to actually read one.

Jules: Is the connection between members of my species love? I do not know. It does not care about the individual member, only the whole. So in that way, I suspect many human would say it is not. Perhaps they would compare it to nationalism, or even narcissism, as many say we are one being. But as a counterpoint, those are considered forms of love, are they not? Abet ones with frequent negative consequences. I would argue it is most similar to familial love, as we are all bound to each other at birth. However, in human society even this bond is not guaranteed, so perhaps it is not the same at all. Perhaps it is the ideal of familial love realised? Or perhaps it is impossible to make a true comparison and I should not try. Sexual and romantic relations, as I have previously stated, do not exist. I must be honest and repeat the concepts still confuse me. I will likely be confused by them for a long time, perhaps forever.   
Jules: I apologise, perhaps that was inappropriate.  
Jules: Please take this photo of a cat.  
Jules: cat253.jpg

Well, that was. 

David wasn't sure what that was.

He swiped down, down, down the endless messages until he hit bottom.

Jules: We have been allowed to leave the labs. Falcon X has left to retrieve Pink Falcon and Little Pink from the airport.  
Jules: I do not know what to do.

Fuck it. No matter how shit David felt, Jules deserved better than David ghosting on him for the second time.

David: Where are you  
The reply was instant.

Jules: I am in my room with my brother.   
David: be there in a bit

He had a shower. Got a fresh suit. Tried to tame his hair. Gave up on that last one. The new guy had already seen him half dead, there was only so much a second impression could do at this point.

First stop: office. He ignored Maria's looks and commandeered the printer for long enough to print doubles of everything Jules could possibly need. Stole a folder from supplies to carry it all. Resisted the urge to see what messes were on his desk.

Next: Every vending machine on the way to Jules' room. None had skittles. He went for the next most sugary looking option, and whatever soda was left. 

He noted that the fullness of the machines decreased the closer he got to Jules' door.

Finally, after an embarrassingly long hesitation, he knocked. Well, hit the door with a can of mountain dew. He was carrying a lot by this point, he'd been shot in the chest two days ago, and one arm was pretty much being held together with glue and rags by this point.

The person who opened it wasn't Jules. But they looked eerily like Jules. Not in the 'oh they're clearly related' way the Kirke twins were, or in the mirror image way identical twins were, but like someone tried to look like Jules, then changed their mind halfway through, then changed their mind back at the last minute. So built, bland, hollywoody. 

"Hi," said David. 

"Hello," said the robot that had hauled David around like a limp doll after months of being tortured by David's ex.

"David!" Jules's head popped around his almost-double. "It is very good to see you! This is my brother."

The brother smiled. Sort of. He was clearly trying. "Hello. It is good to see you." A pause. "Again."

"I brought food." David was thankfully able to offload most of that to Jules. "And paperwork."

Jules' room was the same as it ever had been. Maybe there were a few more boxes. Still nowhere in particular to sit, so David pulled up a box and leaned back against the bed. "The sooner you get your forms in, the sooner we can get you anything. Phone, job, room." Unless he was just going to stay in Jules' room. Maybe he would. 

"That is good." Jules however, was getting pretty good at smiling. "Thank you, David."

With some direction, the brother sat beside David. He had a bit of trouble re-arranging his legs. Jules was on the other side. His shoulder touched his brother's. So did his hand.  
David got out he first set of papers and one ez-grip pen. "Okay, so let's start with the basics. Do you have a name picked out?

"Herb," said 'Herb'. "Like the useful type of plants. I like plants. Jules' plant is dead though."  
Jules looked, almost, guilty. "I tried to give it as much light as possible…"

"Maybe you can grow mushrooms!" said Herb. His voice sort of chirped up a level. This guy, David was realising, this guy was excitable. Had he seemed this chipper as a giant robot?   
"Okay, Herb it is. Herb Gagarin, on this line here." 

Herb held the pen. Poorly.

Jules reached forward, hesitated. Maybe he thought Herb should learn on his own, or that his own penmanship was too shit to help. 

"Here." David took the mess of a grip and arranged Herb's fingers a bit better. "Would it help if I wrote it down on another paper then you copied from that?"

Herb looked up at David, eyes wide. Vulnerable, kind of cute, but worryingly intense. Herb's other hand came up over both of theirs. "Please."

David had the most ominous feeling that he was in deep trouble.

"You are so good at using your hands," continued Herb, keeping full eye contact. 

David glanced over to where Jules fiddled with his phone. "Uh."

Jules sort of nodded. "It is true."

"Thanks?" David ended up dragging the word out a little. Was Jules' new brother hitting on him? Was Jules just watching and agreeing?

What was happening.

David grabbed a pen and scribbled 'Herb Gagarin' with maybe less than his usual level of penmanship. "Yeah, so, it should look like that. Mostly."

They muddled through the forms as fast as David could manage.

Jules didn't talk much. Maybe he was doing some psychic thing with Herb, but David didn't think that was it. They seemed to have to ask out loud for the other to pass a can of Calpis, or a Coffee Crisp. 

David wanted to ask about it. Ask a lot of things. But Herb was right there, going all in on Coffee Crisps, and even if Jules' species liked to share everything, David's sure didn't.

Well. David didn't.

Herb may have helped save his life, and he'd already seen David at his pretty low, but that didn't mean David was okay blabbing his feelings all over him.

Hell, it probably would have been easier if the guy still looked like multi-legged antbot. It had been kinda cute. In its own way.

Herb grabbed for more sweet caffeinated chocolate yet found nothing but yellow wrappers. Oh no, a crisis. 

"Sorry," said David, "but that's the last Coffee Crisp, try a Mars Bar."

"Mars Bar," Herb repeated, but sort of like it was a question. Sort of. 

Jules used his phone fiddling to read the Wikipedia page, or whatever had come up. "It appears that the Mars Bar was created by the son of the creator of the Milky Way bar, which was modelled after and named for a milkshake. It has nothing to do with space."

"It's chocolate, sugar." David thought a moment. "Nougat? Not sure what nougat is. I think its more sugar."

"Sugar is good," said Herb.

This wasn't so bad. Sitting on the floor. Back against the bed. Too much sugar. Looking up stupid shit on cell phones. The TV selling some random shit. Everyone happy. Well, Jules was happy. Herb seemed incapable of not being happy.

David was fine.

Even though Jules had Herb now for anything more—

More. Well David could still be useful, could still look out for Jules. Look after him. So he'd do that, and he wouldn’t have to worry about causing any more trouble just because Jules maybe thought they should be something more. Herb was a good distraction, something more important for Jules to focus on. Someone better to focus on. David could just slowly drift out—it wasn't ghosting, he'd still be there! He'd still be useful!--and it would be fine. 

Totally fine.

*

Then David left.

They had attempted to stop him.

"I'm tired. You know, getting shot. Arm breaking. Takes things out of humans." He had looked then at Jules' chest. "Speaking of, are you—"

"You could sleep here!" Herb--and it was strange, Jules had thought he would have more difficulty assigning a name to someone that should not even need one, but instead having such a designation was a relief--had interrupted. 

Then Herb nodded quickly, as an affirmation, or perhaps to attract David's attention through movement. He was adapting to physical expression in this new form much faster than Jules had. This was admirable. The interruption, not as much, but could be forgiven. He was, after all, attempting to keep David from leaving, a shared goal. "A nap!" 

Herb then turned to Jules when David did not reply. "It is called a nap, yes?" 

Herb had been asking many questions. Jules had attempted to have answers. "Yes. Also that is a very good idea." 

Being away from David when he had known the man to be so injured had been highly unpleasant, even if Jules had known he was needed with Herb. Even if the King of Mu had sent a picture proving David had not been alone while he was in the medical facility. 

"Please stay for a nap, David." One thing Jules had learned was that if he did not keep a metaphorical, and possibly physical, grip on the human, then David would remove himself until Jules pulled him back. 

David's expression seemed to be one of uncertainty. This was good. Hesitation meant David might accept.

But David did not.

David excused himself and left.

Jules had thought for a moment to attempt to stop David, but he too was unsure, and thus hesitated. In his case hesitation was bad. 

But both cases meant failure.

"Sorry," said Herb, looking downwards at the pile of candy bar wrappers. "It was my fault. I was too forward."

And in Herb's case a lack of hesitation had caused failure. Did a correct course of action exist? "Herb. Subtly does not work. Directness does not work. If this if true then what is left?" 

Herb considered this. He also considered the residue on the candy wrappers. "Humans seem to be very physical when trying to assert affection. While I was in captivity I was forced to watch many films where men chased down women at airports. Although we are not at an airport the basic concept may still apply."

"I see."

"Also, now that I have finished my transformation into a new form and gotten used to its oddity, I could be left alone for an extend period of time with no consequence."

"Thank you." Jules went for the door. If he was fast enough he had a good chance of reaching David before David returned to his room.

"But please bring back more Coffee Crisp."

*

David got as far as the first set of elevators before being cornered. It took a moment to realize who the fuck it was. Gerald Sign. That guy from the labs. The one David had pulled a runner on. He looked like complete shit now, with a blossoming purple bruise down one side of his face.

He had a gun.

"So." David, who did not have his gun, gave a quick glance to the closest exits. They were sadly not that close. "There's clearly a story here."

The gun shook in Gerald's hand in that way angry people shook things. "You!"

David waited a moment, then replied, "Me?"

"This was all your fault!" yelled Gerald.

"A lot of things are my fault, so you'll have to be more specific." Maybe if he just stalled long enough some security guard would check on the hall's camera. 

"If that idiot Montebello hadn't wanted you as payment then those aliens wouldn't have gotten involved! They wouldn't have ruined everything!" 

Gerald wasn't completely wrong. But even if Al hadn't wanted David, Jules would have had to cross paths with their gang of conspirators eventually. 

"Why is everyone so obsessed with you?!"

There was a camera in this hall, right? There had to be. There were cameras everywhere. David looked around a bit more frantic, hoping to spot the tell-tale black bulb. 

"I don't know?" Honestly, there were only two people. 

"Even that bloody tyrant cares more for your recovery than that of his son." 

Maybe three. 

"That goddamned idiot! If he'd just been able to see what he could have had, then—"

Okay, the guy was ranting about someone else. That was a good sign. There were no visible spy cameras though. Bad sign. It was possible David would have to make another run. 

But while he knew he could out run Gerald, he wasn't so keen on his chances with a bullet.

"But even if I can't fix this country, I can at least get revenge on those alien fucks. Maybe I can't take them out in a fair fight, but if I have you as a hostage then, I might have a shot." The hand not holding a shaking gun went for his pocket and fished out a cell. "And I'll stream the whole thing, so everyone will know our King has sold us out to ET."

Even badder sign. "Look, I don't think this is a great plan."

"Shut up! Call your alien fuck buddies in or—" Gerald aimed vaguely in the area of David's last gunshot. Great. "I shoot you here and now."

Whelp, he was fucked. Jules was going to be upset, but he'd be looked after. He'd be fine.

David shrugged. "Fuck off." 

Gerald went down in a blur. It took a moment longer, and David would blame the painkillers for this if pressed, to realise that was because Jules had tackled the asshole.

"Uh." David slowly lowered his hands. One had to go a bit slower than other. The broken arm made a bit of a clicking noise in his bones. "Hmm."

The gun went flying. Hit the wall. Bounced to the worn pink carpet. David picked it up. Then he leaned against the wall for bit. Jules seemed to have things pretty in hand, so David phoned security instead of trying to aim the gun and accidently shooting Jules or something.

"You okay down there?" David asked after the call went through and he got some assurances of immediate assistance. 

Jules had the guy in some sort of wrestling hold, legs going ways legs shouldn't go. Gerald was either passed out or close to it. "I seem to have the situation under control."

"Nice. Good." David sunk a little lower against the walls.

"Are you harmed?" asked Jules.

David managed a thumbs up. "I really need that nap."

The cavalry arrived. Questions had to be answered. They had to be answered in the security office.

David was not going to get that nap for a while. 

"Shouldn't you go back to Herb?" David asked after Jules passed him another paper cup full of coffee. They had been relegated to using the interviewee-tier coffee machine in the security holding lobby, which meant the only creamer came in powder form.

At least there was free caffeine, and the one time David wobbled on his feet, Jules' had gently guided his back to the wall. 

Why the hell did this place not have chairs?

"It is Herb's opinion that we should be more physical in expressing affection." David's dazed pause was enough time for Jules to add, "By 'we,' I mean you and I. Therefore, if it is acceptable for me to do so, I would like to try something now."

David took a nice and long drink of the sub-par coffee then replied, "What."

"Please stay still for a moment." Jules shifted away from David's side to face him. Then, slowly, but with clear purpose, he placed both hands against the wall around David's head. Then Jules leaned closer.

And kissed David's forehead.

"Okay?" said David, trying not to feel disappointed as Jules leaned back.

Jules tilted his head. "Okay?"

David made a weak shrug. As much as he could without bumping Jules' hands. "Not actually what I was expecting there."

"It was not?" Jules' hands fell to his sides. Damnit, he really was getting good at expression. It was just like a kicked puppy. Not really, obviously. But in that metaphorical way people always talked about without knowing what it actually meant. 

David had done many things, but he had never literally kicked a puppy. Metaphorically, well. He attempted to suddenly manifest superpowers and phase backwards into the wall. It didn't work. So he just sort of shrugged again. "No, just, generally people aim lower."

'It's not a complaint' was what David was totally going to say after that, then maybe some rambling about how it was probably normal in families and such, not that David knew that from firsthand experience, and likely so on and so forth until David either ran out of breath or finally made it through that wall, but Jules cut him off.

"That did seem to be the case from my research, however in the car you kissed my forehead so I had assumed it had some significance that was too obscure for me to have heard of." Jules said this all with a much more earnest expression than anyone had ever used while describing David doing something idiotic.

Which, also, looking back David could only remember in that 'remembering it happened' way certain chemicals tended to cause. "Wait, I did?" 

"Yes."

"Jules. I was really fucking loopy." The coffee wobbled in David's hand. "I missed."

There was a single clock on the far wall. An ancient thing where the numbers changed with the flipping of sheets. Each minute came a little clap of plastic on plastic. Clap. Clap.

"Oh," said Jules.

Then David said, knowing he had to say it, even if he also knew that if anywhere in the JHQ complex was tapped it was the waiting area of the security department, "I fucked up. That's the problem, Jules. I fuck up."

Jules frowned. It looked pretty natural on him now, which only made David's heart sink further. Jules had learned that, and that was the whole problem.

"I don't want to fuck you up."

Jules tilted his head to the side. "I do not understand."

"Al was the first person to be nice to me, so I imprinted. And that you know how that ended. I don't want to do the same to you."

Jules' face flattened, almost to the blankness of when they had first met. "David."

Quick enough to cause an un-dignified squawk from David, Jules pulled David into his chest. "David. Many people have been kind to me. However, I believe you have been the one to worry the most about being kind to me."

Oh god, he was being hugged. "If you wait like a month this place will be full of people who actually have their shit together."

"And then they will leave again once the weather turns cold." The words rumbled as much through Jules' chest. And, well, he wasn't wrong. "How are they a better option if they leave me behind?"

"It's not like that now. Now you have Herb."

"Do you believe that now that I have one of my own species I no longer need you as well?"

"No." Yes.

Jules backed away. He frowned. Sort of, then he took out his phone and without breaking eye contact became typing. "As I seem to be unable to convey my meaning, I am going to attempt another method." He tapped and scrolled before turning the screen of the phone towards David. 

On the screen was:

ಠ_ಠ

"Jules," David said slowly. "Did you just emoticon at me?"

"Yes." It was possible that Jules attempted to replicate the expression. David wasn't completely sure. His brows kinda came down though. Weird, those hardly ever moved. "Herb informed me of their existence earlier. As I still do not have mastery of facial expression they could prove useful."

Well, then that really proved David's point. "Right, see, Herb is good for you—"

"Herb being important to me does not make you less important to me, David." Jules put his phone back into his hoodie pocket, still not looking away from David. "My species does not have the same individuality yours has, but that does not mean the bonds I have formed outside my species are not valuable to me. On my home, such bonds are guaranteed, they exist from birth until death. However for humans creating any form of relationship is very difficult. To achieve anything past a superficial connection requires work. Even once formed, relationships appear distressingly easy to destroy, no matter how strong they once appeared."

David thought of Al, of the weight of a ring he felt in his pocket even though it was either a lump of metal or pawned by now. "Jules, that's what I mean, kinda." 

"Your low opinion of yourself is concerning and unwarranted. It also indicates a lack of confidence in my own judgement," continued Jules. "I know I am naive due to my inexperience, but I trust you to help me. You have always helped me. I want you to allow the same." 

Again, Jules leaned forward, bracing himself with one arm on the wall. "And if we must have this conversation again and again, then I will. Human relationships are a process, and I am willing to engage in that process indefinitely."

Then Jules leaned closer again, so close that his next words were spoken into David's hair. "Please do not leave me because you think I no longer need you. I do."

David had a face full of fleece and skin. It was surprisingly comfortable. "You know security is probably watching you pour your heart out on some ancient TV, right?"

"That is fine." And he just sounded so sincere.

So David just said "okay" into Jules' clavicle, and it maybe came out more high pitched than it should have.

Maybe Jules was right. Maybe David wouldn't fuck up this time. 

He could at least try.

David reached his good hand up to tug at the collar of Jules' sweater, pulling him forward. "I guess I'll just have to keep trying too."

A door opened. A man in a suit looked out with a stern expression. "You can do the rest of the interview tomorrow. Get out." 

*

David got everything Herb needed within a week. Room next to Jules', identification cards, phone. The phone was the one object Herb seemed most pleased with. Now he and Jules could message anytime, from anywhere.

"It is comforting to be in contact despite distance," Jules commented on the texting addiction. "Verbal communication has many faults which textual and pictorial communication via phone helps augment."

That may have explained a lot but David's inbox strained to keep up. He had never paid attention to his inbox size before. Now he was batch deleting every night just to keep up. 

He archived some shit though, just because it was cute. As Jules loved his jpegs, Herb had a fondness for text emotes.

HERB: The idea of using characters to create pictures is fascinating. Do you not also think so?  
HERB: (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ Look, I have flipped a table out of anger.  
HERB: ┬─┬ノ( º _ ºノ) Look, I have calmed down and put it back.  
David: Cute  
HERB: Thank you!!!!! <3

As the city thawed it also filled. Jules seemed to like the influx of new people, but, just like he had said, he didn't dump David's ass for anyone shiny and new. 

Herb however, gave them plenty of time alone in the evenings. Popular guy, that Herb. David once walked in on Jules giving a lecture on safe sex and promptly walked backwards until he was halfway down the hall, got himself a can of coffee, then kept walking until he got to the bottle of vodka in his desk drawer.

He came to with a piles of messages on his phone both apologising and telling him to stop drinking right now.

So in some ways, life didn't change much.

Things still blew up. The King collected strange people. David fudged expense reports.

On the other hand David now regularly talked to people for extended periods of time voluntarily. Outside of a work context. He also got laid on the regular.

The first time had been--

A thing.

"I enjoyed most the part where you changed colour." Jules had wiggled closer to press his face against David's cheek. "Ah! Like that, but more so!"

Okay, turned out Jules was even more snuggly after an orgasm. David wasn't complaining. It had gone okay. Kinda award, kinda fun when David stopped overthinking it, and it was a hell of a lot less depressing than the last however many times he'd jacked off. Maybe they'd try something more complicated than enthusiastic handjobs eventually. Build up to things. Go slow. David had traded his virginity for a ride out of town but most people considered it important.

At least, that was the plan until Jules said, "Can we try again?"

"Again," David repeated.

"As soon as your refractory period is re-set," replied Jules. "Do not worry, I did research on the subject and there is nothing to be ashamed of. However, I do not think I have one."

So, getting laid on the regular. That brightened things a surprising amount. Enough to cover rough times like the goldfish farm incident, and the years' second monarchical assassination attempt, or when an American tabloid decided Jules was the King's boy-toy and somehow managed to get a reporter through customs. Or when David found out why Falcon X was suddenly hanging around so much. Or when Falcon X found out that David had found out why Falcon X was hanging around so much. Or, when the King had found out that Falcon X had found out that—

So drinking was still one of life's constants. But overall, it was a net positive.

"This is nice," David decided, head on Jules' lap one night as they half watched some ancient animated space drama on the TV.

One of Jules's hands brushed through David's hair, the other was texting someone. Maybe Herb. Maybe multiple people. "Yes, the unification of the species through song is very touching."

David hummed then hooked the front of Jules' collar with a finger. "That's not what I meant."

Jules set down the phone and smiled. He was getting a lot better at it.

Yeah, this was nice.


End file.
